


rich boys only

by daddyanchen (sichenqie)



Series: rich boys au [1]
Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Polyamory, actually like... all of IP, almost everyone a rich boy, bc apparently that wasn’t obvious enough, just... bo y s, like you gonna see a lot of people in here, listen im adding like all the yuehuas, not like hard drugs but it comes up a lot, so just in case, some of these pairings are very minor, this fic mostly focuses on zhengchenkun jsyk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 28,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sichenqie/pseuds/daddyanchen
Summary: boys... with their fast cars and wind-swept hair, flute glasses glittering with diamond-pink champagne, rosy cheeks and diamond necklaces stolen from their mothers, pool parties where the pool is the ocean and the party is a drunk kiss from a best friend. wealth spills from fingers tips that don't yet know how the world works, but they love all the same. boys love in complex ways, love like strong fingers gripping stronger thighs, bruises on hip bones, hickeys on shoulders. the glow of candlelight and neon clash, boys kissing under starlight and fog, and they turn to the open door way, and they beg for more.





	1. rich boy club

**Author's Note:**

> everyone's rich and everyone's hot :))
> 
> shout out to my friends for plotting this au with me

it starts with the transfer student on a bright and sunny day. it's beautiful outside, and it's perfect beach weather, but the school dean told zhengting and friends that they aren't allowed to skip school for the rest of the semester _"or else."_ zhengting couldn't give less of a shit, but bi wenjun had forced them to sit in class and suffer—suffer because zhengting's assigned seat is near the window and xukun's is near the door, and zhengting hasn't been able to sit in his lap or kiss him for the past forty-five minutes he wants to die. he's not paying attention to the lesson—can't when it's so beautiful outside and they can't even take the boats out because li quanzhe has freaking tutoring after school. zhengting isn't interested in the class at all until he sees a tall, slender boy walk into their class, a silver rolex on his wrist and his uniform untucked and clearly not giving a damn about it. 

“zhou yanchen,” he says, as if that’s all the explanation he needs to be introduced, and for zhengting, it is. he immediately turns to look at xukun, smiles at the way that xukun's eyes never really leave yanchen's lips, watches xukun shift in his seat and side-glance at zhengting, a silent conversation of eyes and nodding. 

at lunch, zhengting clings to xukun’s arm and sits in his lap, kisses him hard to make up for the past fifty-seven minutes that they didn't get to kiss. he presses his lips to xukun’s ear and whispers, “find out more about him.”

zhengting’s always curious, always wanting, always searching—because he just always wants to find new people, make new friends. It’s at the end of the week that zhengting finds all the information he needs through wenjun's amazing research skills and li quanzhe's natural cuteness and affinity for conversation. zhengting approaches yanchen with his large eyes and bright smile, and says, “i hear your father’s a businessman.”

“yeah,” yanchen says. his voice is silky and deep, makes zhengting think he could wrap himself up in his voice like a blanket.

“you... rich?” zhengting asks. there’s no other way around this question, and it is a requirement.

yanchen laughs, shy and playful as he sticks his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “i wear calvin klein and armani, get first class rides on airplanes, and my family owns a beach house in jeju. Yeah... I guess I’m rich. why?” 

zhengting smiles wide, reaches for yanchen’s hand and squeezes his fingers as he drags him down the hall.

“welcome to the rich boys club.”


	2. hot boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, this fic is highly non-chronological, so things are gonna jump around a bit. if you end up reading everything, though, you'll end up eventually piecing things together.
> 
> if you here for smut, sorry~ that's a sporadic and frankly unimportant part of the story. it's just a bonus from time to time~

“he’s hot, he’s rich, he’s a nice addition to our club,” zhengting says, leaning against xukun’s shoulder. “can i add him to the group chat yet?”

“didn’t you come up with the rule where we had to wait like a month to make sure he’s chill and everything? you wouldn’t even let jeffrey into the group chat even though it had been two months, and that guy’s nothing but nice and a little bit dense. also, i don’t like when you call it a club. it’s more like... a gathering of people with similar social backgrounds,” zeren says from across the table, arms crossed over his chest.

“well, we can’t call it the hot boys club. that’s shallow!” zhengting whines, frustrated.

“and calling it the rich boys club isn’t?” zeren snaps back.

zhengting pouts, and xukun leans over to kiss him. wrapping his arms around xukun’s neck, zhengting mutters, “i just wanna be friends with him. i want all of us to be friends with him—he’s so hot, kunkun. like... he’s so hot it hurts. he’ll fit in so perfectly with everyone!”

xukun chuckles against zhengting’s lips, pinches his cheek. “i know, babe. you told me a million times, and i agreed with you.”

”are you guys lusting over a guy who you don’t even know is into guys?” justin asks, brow raised as he drinks his milkshake.

“oh, he’s gay,” zhengting says, confident.

“how do you know?” chengcheng asks.

“skinny jeans and glitter,” zhengting says. justin and chengcheng still look skeptical.

“i also found his grindr profile and showed it to zhengting,” yanjun adds, scrolling through his phone.

“his selfie game is on point, and i mean... like... makes chengcheng look like a hot dog.”

chengcheng rolls his eyes as justin nudges him, playfully makes a face at him and chengcheng makes one back.

“okay, but who is _actually_ gonna smash?” yanjun says, putting down his phone.

zhengting and xukun pause in their affectionate nuzzling, justin and chengcheng stop playing, zeren looks up from his book.

“what do you mean?” xukun asks.

“i mean, i’m just saying, i bet i could get yanchen into bed faster than either of you.”

“bullshit,” zhengting says. “he totally eyed me in class. i wouldn’t even have to ask to have him take me over a table.”

“excuse me? your visual boyfriend exists,” xukun says. “besides, he’s a sub, and i bet i could fuck him first.”

"i think zhengting would win," zhangjing says.

"zhengting," bi wenjun adds.

"are none of you one my side?" xukun bites.

zeren smiles to himself and nudges justin and chengcheng. “are we doing a proper bet then?” he says, addressing the whole group.

“i’m not,” yanjun says. “i was just saying—but _these_ two...” he points to xukun and zhengting.

the pair eye each other before zhengting says, “i’ll bet a thousand dollars.”

“please, whore,” xukun snaps, nuzzling zhengting’s neck, pressing kisses to his jaw as he pulls zhengting into his lap. “that’s worthless. i’m betting a yacht party, on the big boat—the one with two bedrooms.”

the table murmurs with interest.

“penthouse party,” zhengting counters, fingers tangled in xukun’s shirt, absentmindedly unbuttoning a few of the top buttons as he kisses his collarbones. “all you can drink booze, hot tub, and food. everyone’s invited, no cap.”

there are more murmurs of interest and approval.

“bets final and locked in then?” zeren asks, already typing on his phone to set up the announcement for the group chat.

xukun smiles at zhengting, kisses him hard on the mouth and says, “good luck, darling.” 

 

to group chat **rich boys only!**

> ❗ BET IN PLACE ❗  
>  xukun & zhengting  
>  topic: first to get yanchen into bed  
>  rewards:  
>  CXK - yacht party (the big boi boat )  
>  ZZT - penthouse party (booze and fun included)  
>  all hands off Zhou Yanchen  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ao3 wouldn't let me add emojis into the gc txt im sad :(( imagine it w emojis and cuter and like 10% more fuccboi-ish


	3. business boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're being kept fed for a good week bc i love :*

turns out yanchen is a busy boy, a bad boy, a good boy, a multi-layered complex boy. mornings are spent in class staring out the window and ignoring anything the teacher says; lunches are spent off campus, opting for a real meal rather than cafeteria food. after lunch, yanchen rarely ever returns. justin says it’s because yanchen is secretly dealing drugs. chengcheng says it’s because yanchen’s grades are too high so they have to tell him to leave so others don’t feel stupid.

zhengting finds out that it’s because yanchen doesn’t care.

“i’m gonna go with him,” zhengting tells xukun after chemistry as he sees yanchen, hands in pockets, already heading out to the parking lot.

xukun just smiles and kisses his forehead. “good luck, whore—but i’m winning this bet. try your best, though. don’t go easy on me,” he says, smacking zhengting’s ass as a send-off.

there are stares—stares of those who don’t understand the complicated balances of their relationship—and zhengting catches up to yanchen, clings to his arm, says, “can i come with you?” but they both know that regardless of what yanchen says, zhengting will tag along anyways.

yanchen pinches zhengting’s cheek and wraps an arm around his shoulder. “sure, sugar. i’m headed to lunch. where do you want to eat?”

they eat at a restaurant that’s twenty minutes from their school. the hostess greets yanchen by name, and yanchen requests for balcony seating, orders extra appetizers for zhengting. “what’s with you and xukun?” yanchen asks, folding the sleeves of his uniform, and zhengting’s almost surprised that yanchen takes such care of his clothing considering the fact that he comes to school out of uniform code more than half the time.

“what do you mean?” zhengting asks, distracted by the way the sun bounces off of yanchen’s watch.

“you guys together?”

“yes.” there’s no need to lie.

yanchen smiles, and zhengting doesn’t know what that means. most people assume they’re together, and they sigh in disappointment. they’re the exclusive-not-exclusive couple, invitation only, but does yanchen know what that means, what it entitles?

the appetizers come out, and yanchen gestures for zhengting to start eating first. the wind is breezy and cool as it whooshes through zhengting’s shirt, cools his body down in the near-summer heat. he can’t wait for summer—summer with its vibrant sunshine, days spent on beach shores and boat decks, spent kissing under piers and going on weekend road trips. he’s excited to bring yanchen along on all the adventures.

“are you busy this weekend?” zhengting asks, crossing his legs one over the other. the tip of his shoe taps against yanchen’s knee, but yanchen doesn’t move away—either because he doesn’t feel it, or he doesn’t care. zhengting then taps yanchen’s foot again more purposefully, and yanchen taps it back. zhengting smiles.

“i’m not too busy,” yanchen finally says, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. the servers come and clear their finished appetizers. “why? what’s going on this weekend?”

“the rich boys club is going to the beach. wanna come?” zhengting asks, taps yanchen’s foot again—yanchen taps back twice.

“what time? i have a meeting with my father’s company at five on saturday,” he says. the corner of his mouth twitches when he says _father._

“a meeting with your father’s company? very grown up, responsible.” zhengting raises a brow, expecting yanchen to explain further.

“my father owns a very large company of several affairs,” yanchen says, taking a sip of his water, eyes peering over the rim of his glass and staring zhengting down.

“what kind of affairs?” zhengting asks.

“ah, one question per person, sugar. it’s my turn.”

zhengting pouts, but his smile peaks through. “go on, ask me anything.”

“you wanted me to join the rich boys club. what’s the catch?”

zhengting snorts. “no catch. i just want to introduce you to my friends, and hopefully you’ll be friends with them too, and we can all hang together. we all have similar vibes.”

“you mean we’re all rich,” he clarifies.

“and hot.”

yanchen laughs and nods, apparently satisfied with the answer.

“your company affairs?” zhengting asks.

“a private matter, but one has to do with stocks invested in jewelry—courtesy of zhu xingjie’s family—and the other has to do with an investment in... _not_ jewelry.”

“not jewelry?” zhengting raises a brow, suddenly sits up straight as their food is brought to them.

“let your imagination fill in the blanks.” yanchen pulls his seat closer to the table.

“I’m thinking something along the lines of either drug cartel or strip club.”

yanchen smiles at zhengting. “i love a smart boy. it’s the latter,” he says as he cuts a piece of his steak and eats it.

zhengting’s heart skips a small beat, and he laughs. “your family has an investment in a strip club?”

yanchen’s not laughing. his lips curl into a smirk as he swallows his food. “you’re welcome to come with me to see it anytime.” 

the first thing zhengting does after his lunch with yanchen is kiss xukun in the parking lot outside of the courtyard. yanchen had dropped zhengting off at school after lunch, and zhengting immediately runs into xukun’s arms.

“how was your date?” xukun asks, and the girls passing by mutter about how confusing their relationship is (“are they dating or not? just pick one so they stop stringing us along!”).

“when he paid the bill, i saw four credit cards in his wallet. he’s so rich. he could be my new daddy,” zhengting taunts.

xukun fakes a gasp, dramatic. “but you know _i_ love being your daddy,” he whines, pursing his lips and giving zhengting another kiss. zhengting kisses back, wraps his arms around xukun and only pulls away because a teacher begins screaming at them about “leaving room for the holy spirit.”

“then daddy can take me shopping for a new outfit,” zhengting says as he climbs into xukun’s car.

“how slutty are you thinking?” xukun asks, knows zhengting only ever asks for a new outfit when he’s going out for something special.

“very. apparently, his father’s company invests in strip clubs on the down low, and he invited me.”

xukun scoffs as he backs out of the parking lot. “you’re really hitting him with everything you’ve got.”

“you told me not to go easy.”

“that’s my darling.” xukun leans over the center console and kisses zhengting before he heads toward the mall.

when zhengting arrives at the strip club, velveteen, the bouncers wave him through without even asking for his id. he’s escorted into a private booth, closed off with red velvet ropes, and zhengting takes a seat next to yanchen sprawled out on the booth’s couch.

“you made it, sugar. thought you might not come,” yanchen says.

“that’s a lie. you know i wouldn’t bail on you,” zhengting says, hitting yanchen’s chest playfully (god, he’s got muscle).

“i almost expected your boyfriend to come with you,” yanchen says.

“he couldn’t. he promised ziyi he’d party with him tonight.”

“they seem close, but... tense.”

zhengting purses his lips. “let’s not get into that. can you order me a drink, prince?”

zhengting feels yanchen’s chest rumble, a reaction to the nickname. “of course, sugar. what you wanna drink?”

wine, he’s about to say, but he climbs into yanchen’s lap and presses their foreheads together, lips barely touching. “you.”

yanchen doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t lean forward to kiss zhengting, doesn’t lift a finger to hold him, just stares into his eyes. zhengting inwardly commends yanchen for his self-control.

“wonderful choice of drink,” yanchen mutters. “mind if i get myself a glass of you as well?”

zhengting smiles, agrees by pressing his lips to yanchen’s lips. yanchen wraps his arms around zhengting’s hips and pulls him further into his lap. it’s hot smoke and molten amber slipping down their throats as zhengting bites at yanchen’s lower lip. they only manage to part, startled when the audience around them starts clapping, dancers exiting the stage as they finish their set.

yanchen’s hand squeezes zhengting’s hip, pulls him close and whispers, “i heard you dance, sugar. bet you can do better than the sellouts we hire here.”

it’s a dare. zhengting glares at yanchen as if yanchen had just insulted his mother. pushing off yanchen’s lap, he struts to the stage, heels of shoes clacking against the stairs. the stage lights are bright purple, regal, royal, and zhengting keeps eye contact with yanchen as he strips himself of his jacket. the ring xukun and he bought together sparkles under the spotlight along with the diamond necklace he got for christmas.

yanchen sips on his drink as he watches zhengting, makes zhengting work for his attention with skin and mesh and previews of the positions xukun and he have used in bed. men from the audience tug at zhengting’s legs, slip twenties and fifties into the waist of his boxer briefs; they hand him shots of vodka, beg zhengting to down them, and he does—takes it like a champ and gives them a gaze that would make grown men come in their shorts.

when the song ends, zhengting stumbles from the alcohol and sits back in yanchen’s lap, half clothed and half hard. he leans forward and kisses yanchen, resumes from where they left off.

“we’d hire you in a heartbeat, sugar,” yanchen says between breathy kisses.

“you got a bed around here?” zhengting breathes puffs of bitter alcohol into yanchen’s mouth.

“yes.” yanchen’s hands grip zhengting’s hips, bucks his hips to let zhengting feel how aroused he is.

“take me to a bed, prince,” zhengting begs, using his whiny voice, desperate and breathy.

“no,” yanchen chuckles.

zhengting pauses, pulls away. “what?”

“i know what game your playing, sugar,” yanchen says, kissing zhengting’s swollen lips. “i wanna see if xukun can offer better than you, and i don't doubt that he can. let's give all players a fair chance, hm?”

zhengting pouts, puffs his cheeks and grinds down in yanchen’s lap, but he can’t help but feel impressed. yanchen laughs, spends another three hours with zhengting in his lap, kissing his lips chapped, before he calls for a limo to take zhengting home.

zhengting shows up to xukun’s house the next day still pouting and frustrated. xukun kisses zhengting’s pout, pulls him close by the waist and says, “you’re losing your touch, darling.”

zhengting spends the entire day wailing about how he’s not losing his touch.


	4. soft boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i've been updating every day and spoiling you guys, so i'mma be living the rich boys club life and going boating this weekend. send me things on cc and follow me on twitter! 
> 
> also, comment if ur an exo-l—alums might be droppin' by at some point;)
> 
> triggers in this chap:
> 
> drug mention


“who told him?” zhengting screams while they're eating lunch.

the table is silent, shrugs moving down the line. eyes land on justin, a notorious blabbermouth, who purses his lips and shrugs along with everyone else. annoyed, zhengting rolls his eyes and sits in xukun’s lap.

“so he knows about the bet now?” zeren asks, mixing his iced coffee.

“yeah. messed up all my plans! i would’ve totally had him!” zhengting yells, loud; heads turn to look at him, and xukun shuts him up with a kiss.

“too bad, baby. guess we’ll just have to see which of us he picks,” xukun laughs, presses another playful kiss to zhengting’s lips because he knows zhengting will pout, knows zhengting feels sore about picking and choosing, knows that zhengting has to be reassured about the bet even though it’s clearly for fun.

“bet jeffrey told him,” zhengting mutters, nuzzling into xukun’s shoulder.

“unless xukun sucks his dick or something, i doubt xukun’s gonna win anyways,” linkai says.

“i could win!” xukun yells indignantly.

“zhengting _stripped_ for yanchen. like... he actually _got out of his clothes_ and walked around in mesh. do you think you could actually beat whatever the hell kind of show zhengting must’ve put on for him?” linkai counters, sitting back in his seat.

zhengting smiles into xukun’s neck, pleased with linkai compliment.

“you underestimate my dick sucking skills,” xukun says. “zhengting brought his best game, so i have to as well. no pussyfooting.”

xukun leans forward and kisses zhengting on the nose, holds his hand tight and whispers, “i love you” into his hair before linkai throws an empty cup at them and complains about how he spent over a thousand dollars at zara the other day.

xukun actually wears mesh when he goes to yanchen’s house. he’s all ripped skinnies with a mesh shirt and velvet jacket; he’s cherry-red lips and blushed cheeks, combed brows and high cheekbones defined with the fenty’s trophy wife highlighter, courtesy of zheng ruibin.

“so your parents aren’t home?” xukun asks as he stares at the varnished wood tables and granite counters, touches plush couches and finds the kitchen wide and large. xukun is impressed by the grandeur.

“nope. they’re both away on business, so it’s only us two,” yanchen says, continuing to tend to the food on the stove—dinner. “do you drink wine?”

“i drink whatever _you_ drink, prince.” yanchen purrs at the name, and xukun smiles. zhengting was right about the name.

yanchen reaches up into the taller cabinets, long, lithe, beautifully stretched, and brings down two glasses, fills them with liquid topaz called chardonnay and clinks his glass with xukun’s, says, “a toast—to your bet.”

xukun downs the entire glass in two swigs, stares at the empty glass for a moment before lifting his eyes to yanchen's. he kisses yanchen’s plush lips, velvet soft and confident. hands push at slender hips, tailbones hits granite counters. the oven beeps, but xukun isn’t finished marking yanchen’s neck up.

“baby, we need to eat first,” yanchen says, pulling xukun away. “besides, we still have a project to work on. don’t worry—we have all night.”

yanchen smacks xukun’s ass, and dinner proceeds with gentle banter and wide smiles.

“you’re a great cook,” xukun says.

“i was forced to learn. my mom’s not home often, and my father is usually incapacitated.”

“he a hard worker?”

yanchen’s fork scrapes across his plate, eyes glaring at a tomato, and shrugs. he doesn’t say anything more on the matter, and xukun furrows his brows.

“what’s with you and zhengting?” yanchen asks.

“he’s my boyfriend,” xukun says.

yanchen smiles, and xukun isn’t sure what that means. “you guys seem like you’re really in love.”

“are you being sarcastic?”

“no! i really mean it! sometimes i see you guys down the hallways, and it’s cute to see you both. like... you look at zhengting like he’s the most precious diamond in the world—and he looks at you like you’re the brightest star.”

xukun blushes and tries to hide his smile behind shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth. 

“so... how are you deciding the winner?” xukun asks.

“the prizes were both compelling. i like them both, though. i guess it comes down to how well you both do to impress me. zhengting put on quite the show yesterday.”

“he better have. he’s a regional champion in dance.”

"really? i heard he was a dancer, but i didn't know he was at that level."

"he used to be a gymnast, but he hurt his waist really bad, and he gave up on it."

yanchen purses his lips, and xukun has the urge to kiss them. 

after dinner, yanchen shows xukun outside to the balcony, shows him how bright the stars are and has the audacity to add, “but they’re not as bright as you,” and yanchen has only known xukun for a week and can’t know that xukun falls in love with people who tell him things like that, but xukun is soft and is already wrapping his arms around yanchen’s neck and kissing him. 

they kiss against the rail of the balcony, kiss against the wall of the house, kiss against the window adjacent to yanchen’s room. xukun doesn’t taste like zhengting. zhengting is vanilla and cloves, spicy and lingering. xukun is mellower, like rosewater and aloe, clean and refreshing. yanchen nips at xukun’s lower lip, smiles against his lips.

“you kiss just as good as zhengting,” yanchen says, and xukun melts at the compliment, hands pressed to yanchen’s chest as he sinks to his knees on the balcony overlooking the pool and the trees and the stars. 

“can i?” xukun asks, all puppy-eyes and pouty lips, fingers dancing on the chanel belt buckle gleaming in the moonlight.

xukun’s a sucker for romance.

yanchen cards a hand through xukun’s hair, messes it up, smiles when the gel sticks to his fingers messily. _he’d look cuter without product in,_ yanchen thinks as he nods down at xukun. xukun doesn’t tease. he unzips and unbuckles, immediately swallows yanchen like he hadn’t just had dinner. the moonlight is soft on xukun’s cheek, blinding as it reflects gold back at him, radiant.

yanchen almost doesn’t want to swipe his thumb across his cheekbones, doesn’t want to disturb the makeup, groans at the way xukun presses his lips together and sucks, hands on yanchen’s thighs, eyes looking up at him. he’s a soft boy. yanchen understands now. zhengting is all long legs and narrow hips, strong thighs with a stronger will to be the best, number 1, and xukun is all rosy skin and white, cotton t-shirts, bruise-kissed lips begging to be healed with more kisses. 

yanchen comes in his mouth while cradling xukun’s head, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck and cooing at how well he’s done. yanchen stoops to his knees and kisses xukun into the floor of the balcony, holds his hips and lets xukun grind against him until his jeans have soiled.

“talk about your father please,” xukun pleads as yanchen wraps a blanket around them, laying on the balcony floor, hard and cold, but it’s the best place to see the stars. xukun is tucked against yanchen’s side.

“why do you wanna hear about him, baby? he’s not important,” yanchen mutters.

“you don’t like him.” it’s not a question.

“he’s not likable.” it’s not an opinion. 

xukun looks at yanchen, brings a hand up and presses a finger to his cheek. “you can talk to me. you can trust me,” he whispers.

yanchen takes xukun’s hand into his and holds it tight, leans forward and kisses xukun’s lips, chaste, as if it’s their first kiss, their first date in private, nervous and shivering from nerves and the cold—a secret. “when i was six, i accidentally ate cocaine he had left out on the table,” he confesses. “i was in the hospital for three weeks, and he spent those three weeks in bora bora.”

xukun’s lips purse, and he presses another kiss to yanchen’s lips—lock and key. they kiss under the stars until their toes start to freeze. the project assignment is left untouched as they curl up on the couch to watch a movie and then subsequently fall asleep to the ongoing movie.

on the brink of sleep, xukun’s head resting on yanchen’s shoulder, xukun murmurs, “how did you find out about the bet, by the way?”

yanchen takes a sip of his wine, pats xukun’s sleepy head and says, “jeffrey left his phone out on the table, and i saw the text.”

xukun just closes his eyes, face palms himself, and slides further down the couch to rest his head in yanchen’s lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sneak peak into a little bit of yanchen's life; that'll become a thing later lol
> 
> ALSO! i decided to bring part of this au to twt, so head on over to read some miscellaneous twts in the rich boys club chat and other gc that they keep - lots of tea~ [twt rich boys club txts](https://twitter.com/daddyanchen/status/1009186220616966145)


	5. fight boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao my bitch ass couldn't stay away ; here's chap 5 - now i'll be going to live rich boys boating life byee

“what do you mean I didn’t win? I literally sucked his dick on the balcony of his house,” xukun argues.

“okay, but the bet was to get him into bed. no penetration, no win,” zeren says with a shrug.

“rules are rules, man,” linkai agrees.

ruibin gives a soft shrug and murmurs, “i kind of agree with them.”

“baby, you tried your best,” zhengting says, mocking but sweet in that candy voice of his.

xukun grabs zhengting’s hips and pulls him close, kisses him hard before letting him sit in his lap. they giggle and pause when yanchen comes up behind the pair and wraps his arms around their shoulders. two hearts skip a beat.

“what’re we talking about?” he asks before moving to take a seat next to ruibin.

“kunkun seems to think that he won the bet because he sucked your dick,” zhengting says, giving yanchen those wide eyes, sparkly.

“no,” yanchen laughs. “he didn’t win, though, i was very impressed by how well he did. zhengting’s a lucky boy.”

“see! i told you!” zhengting exclaims as xukun pulls zhengting close and kisses his cheek.

“it’s alum weekend,” ziyi says as he strolls up to the table, all top three buttons of his shirt undone and tall, thin, lanky. zhengting wonders how that bulky watch of his doesn’t anchor him.

“luhan says he’ll be throwing the party this semester,” xukun says. “it’s bring your own booze, but he’s giving us free range of the entire manor.”

zhengting’s phone buzzes as yanchen sits up in his seat.

“this guy owns a manor? it’s actually called that?” he says.

“yeah, lu estate, actually,” xukun continues, moving his hand when zhengting forces his arm off of his shoulder, eyes glued to his text screen. “it’s kinda in the middle of nowhere, but it looks out over the beach and it’s so beautiful. and he’s got, like, a huge pool and lots of games and stuff to do. it’ll be fun. you can come too.”

“sure. you said he’s an alum, so does that mean he used to go here?” yanchen asks. the whole rich boys club is still a bit of a new concept to him.

“yeah, so rich boys started with the alumni, and luhan is one of the founders. his family is lu real estate. they make tons,” zeren says. 

“oh, shit. it’s that lu? so like... everyone in rich boys club got connections like that?”

“most of us,” jeffrey says, “justin, chengcheng, and ling chao grew up as models and child actors. we call them the cf boys. business boys are people like... uhh... yueyue, bufan, mu ziyang, zhu xingjie—those are some. then we got the professional models, like kunkun, ziyi, and me. ruibin is special. we call him the scholarship boy—the only rich boy who isn’t actually rich.” jeffrey pats ruibin on the back of the neck; ruibin smiles shyly and shrugs.

"he's rich in brains and spirit," linkai says, nudging ruibin's shoulder.

“i have to go,” zhengting suddenly mutters, eyes still glued to the screen of his phone as he pushes himself out of xukun’s lap. there’s a stifled breath between the entire group as they watch zhengting walk briskly down the hallway, fingers tugging at the knot in his tie. 

xukun gets up wordlessly, follows zhengting immediately.

“what just happened?” justin mutters.

“tao probably messaged,” wenjun mutters. “it’s alum weekend. tao wouldn’t miss the chance to see who’ll show up, and it’s not like luhan is gonna tell him he can’t come.”

“shit,” chengcheng says. “can’t believe they’re still friends.”

“it’s not like tao did anything to luhan though,” ziyi says.

“hold up,” yanchen interjects. “tao who?”

“huang,” zeren says. “huang, as in the fashion family. y’know... fendi watches, gucci belts, cartier rings? he’s made up like 1/3 of the rich boys club dress code.”

yanchen is wordless as he pushes his chair back, the legs screeching as it scrapes against the ground, and he immediately runs after zhengting and xukun.

“what is it?” xukun asks zhengting, halfway down the hall. “is it your mom? your dad? who texted you?”

“tao. he... he’s in the parking lot—waiting for me.”

yanchen’s ears perk up, grabs zhengting by the shoulder. “how do you know tao?” he asks.

“how do _you_ know him?” xukun fires back.

“he used to go to my school,” yanchen says.

“he’s my alum,” zhengting says. “i... it’s complicated between the two of us.”

“you said he’s in the parking lot, is he still there?”

“i-i guess. i didn’t respond back to him yet, and i—“

yanchen is already angrily walking down the hall out to the parking lot. xukun holds zhengting’s hand tightly, and they both think that yanchen’s raging silhouette looks absolutely stunning against the backdrop of the daylight.

yanchen finds tao leaning against his tesla, pretentious and sleek, futuristic yet unnecessary, out of place. tao notices yanchen immediately and stands straight, a smirk on his lips.

“so this is where you got dumped, druggie,” tao mocks, and yanchen immediately responds by pushing tao at the shoulders.

“what the fuck are you doing here? didn’t i say the next time i see your limp dick i’d fuck you up so bad that you’d shit your own teeth out your ass?”

tao scoffs. “ _you_ came looking for _me,_ mary jane. besides, i’m here to see my favorite little.”

zhengting clings to xukun as they rush to yanchen.

“prince, stop,” zhengting starts. he doesn’t want to see a fight today.

“ooh, prince? is that what he calls you?” tao laughs. “baby, yanchen is nothing but a lying little bitch. dick so small he has to make rumors about you having a smaller dick than him. nothing but a no good druggie. how much you shoot up today, prince?”

“you’re so full of shit!”

yanchen pulls his fist back and swings at tao, who grabs his wrist and twists it, a painful cracking sound emitting.

“stop!” zhengting screams, but tao holds a finger up to him, tutting.

“let me teach your prince a lesson, sweetheart.”

tao punches yanchen in the jaw, smiles at how his knuckles hurt and how yanchen stumbles. it’s almost euphoric to be fighting with yanchen. it’s almost like they’re back at their old school with the beige walls and linoleum flooring, narrow hallways that tao always shoved yanchen up against, pulling at his hair. they’re hot-blooded and rough, all scraped knuckles and snapping jaws.

with a scream, yanchen lunges himself at tao, punching him in the stomach and then the chest, pinning him to the hood of his own car. tao kicks yanchen off of him.

by now, the cafeteria has heard the noise and rushes outside to see the commotion, jeering and cheering for either party. zhengting and xukun try several times to pull them apart, but tao has a hold on yanchen’s blazer. yanchen slips out of the coat and kicks tao’s in the ribs.

“someone break the fight up!” zhengting keeps screaming, shrill voice barely heard over the other screams of people egging the fight on.

linong tries to grab yanchen by the waist and drag him out, but yanchen slaps his hands away and resumes flinging himself at tao despite his possibly sprained wrist.

the loud honk of a car horn breaks the noise, screams for attention. a true king has arrived, grey steed gleaming with the sun beaming down on them. his crown sits on his brow, orders at the ready, no questions asked.

“the fuck is this?” luhan says as he gets out of his mercedes, glares at tao and yanchen.

he’s like cold fire, bright red but smoldering beneath that sharp, cut face. heir to a monumental empire made for survival, luhan doesn’t take shit.

“go to class,” he demands of the crowd, voice soft but no less authoritative. the crowd disperses.

there’s no words exchanged between anyone. tao doesn’t bother to say a word, glares at xukun and yanchen before he gets into his car and drives off. luhan walks to yanchen, chest puffed and hands in his pockets.

“who are you?” the king asks.

“zhou yanchen, a new transfer,” the prince answers.

“he’s a rich boy,” zhengting adds.

“i can tell. he’s a business child, rolex watch and i wouldn’t doubt you’re wearing ralph lauren’s.”

“armani,” yanchen corrects.

“ooh, better choice. i guess i’ll be seeing you at the alum weekend then, right? my place.”

“sure, as long as that dickhead is nowhere near me.”

luhan smiles and pats yanchen’s shoulder. “it’s a pretty big house.”

luhan says a passing hello to xukun before he walks into the school to find his other littles. after luhan leaves, zhengting slaps yanchen’s arm. “you’re fucking stupid. why did you do that?”

there’s blood at the corner of yanchen’s mouth and his wrist is visibly swollen and turning from dark red to purple. he stares at zhengting for a long moment before looking at xukun, teeth grit.

“hate him,” he mutters, and xukun can’t help but smile a little bit.

zhengting grabs yanchen by the front of his shirt and kisses him, wraps his arms around his neck. “give me your keys,” zhengting says. “i’ll take you home.”


	6. soft boys club pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof idk what this is

“why do you hate tao so much?” zhengting asks as he presses ice cubes against yanchen’s knuckles. 

“he’s an asshole, obviously,” yanchen says. “why is he your alum?” 

zhengting lowers his head and presses another ice cube to yanchen’s knuckles after the first ice cube melts. “it’s... a long story, and complicated.”

“i got time,” yanchen says, leaning forward in his seat. his eyes, large and beautiful and shaped so stunningly with those deep brown irises, lock with zhengting’s. he’s so genuine; zhengting could cry. 

“he’s not... that bad, you know,” zhengting mutters, but he doesn’t seem to really mean it. 

“he’s the biggest asshole to ever walk the earth and you know it.” 

“you sound like xukun.” 

they chew on silence for a little bit as zhengting presses ice cube after ice cube to yanchen’s wrist. he doesn’t want to tell zhengting that his wrist is numb and the pain has pretty much gone away. zhengting has that cute, concentrated face, and yanchen can’t bring himself to disturb him. 

“tao is an asshole,” zhengting mutters, finally running out of ice cubes. “he... umm... i used to have a huge crush on him, and just... it’s not important.” 

“no, no, tell me—“ yanchen is curious, wanting another reason to hate tao. 

xukun then walks in with a first aid kit. “yanchen, this was all I could find. is this what you were talking about?” 

“yeah, yeah. that should work,” he says, waving xukun over to the couch. 

“fuck, i can’t believe tao actually showed up like that,” xukun mutters. “can’t believe he actually fought you. why’d you do that, yanchen? he took martial arts for, like, twelve years.” 

“our beef goes way back,” he says, scooting over for xukun to sit with them as xukun starts to wrap yanchen’s wrist up. 

“is it... the drugs thing?” xukun asks, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“yeah...” yanchen mutters. “it’s a lie, just so you know. i didn’t—i mean... i used to, just once or twice, but nothing like that. tao’s just trying to get back at me for just... existing.” 

“why does he hate you so much?” zhengting asks, taking the rest of the melting ice to the sink. 

“i dunno. we always have. he used to steal my backpack and write in my notebooks. like... he just always wanted a fight. and there was the one time he came back from korea and he wouldn’t shut up about it, so i like... in an offhanded comment, told someone he was trying so hard to be korean now, and everyone just started a rumor saying that tao wished he was korean or some shit, and i guess he traced it back to me, but it’s true so whatever.” 

xukun leans over and kisses yanchen’s lips softly, caresses his cheek as he pulls yanchen closer. 

“i’m sorry to hear that, prince,” xukun mutters against his lips, nibbles on the bottom lip. it isn’t until xukun puts a hand on yanchen’s thigh that zhengting suddenly throws a dish towel at them. 

“you fucking cheater! yanchen literally just got into a fight and you’re still trying to do the fucking bet?!” zhengting screams. 

xukun just smiles at zhengting, presses his cheek to yanchen’s shoulder. “it’s not against the rules! come over here and join then, kitten,” he says, pressing kisses to yanchen’s neck. 

“he’s an amazing kisser, sugar. i think i might have to choose kunkun as the bet winner,” yanchen teases, a hand finding its way to xukun’s waist and holding tight. 

zhengting doesn’t need anymore convincing, struts over and leans down, kisses yanchen’s plush lips, hands tangled in yanchen’s dark hair. xukun’s lips leave featherlight kisses on yanchen’s neck, his spine tingling. xukun eventually pushes zhengting away to sit in yanchen’s lap, kisses him and tastes zhengting on his lips, smiles at how sweet the two of them taste together. 

yanchen holds onto xukun’s waist, kisses him all tongue and teeth, all wanting to devour him. yanchen feels zhengting’s hand slip up his shirt, and zhengting whines as he starts undoing the buttons of yanchen’s shirt, begging for attention. when yanchen and xukun finally part, xukun breathes, “bed?” 

it’s all for the bet, yanchen knows. it’s because xukun and zhengting have a bet with each other and want to have yanchen in bed, but yanchen wants them—both of them. 

“please,” he breathes, pushing xukun off of his lap and standing up, grabbing zhengting’s wrist and pulling him up with them. zhengting kisses yanchen hard before he gets startled by the loud sound of a phone alarm. 

“i have dance,” zhengting says, a pout in his voice. 

“no~” xukun and yanchen both whine, each boy clinging to zhengting’s wrists. 

xukun wraps his arms around zhengting’s shoulders and smothers his cheek in kisses while yanchen’s arms are around zhengting’s waist, leaving the beginnings of soft hickeys on zhengting’s neck. there’s hesitation in zhengting’s eyes before he kisses xukun hard, kisses yanchen hard. 

“sorry~ i really can’t miss practice. maybe... at the party, we can find a bed, hm?” he gives them both a wink before grabbing his bag and xukun’s keys, waving at the pair. 

after zhengting shuts the door, yanchen pulls xukun back into his lap, grinds against him as they kiss. 

“we could always... just... go to bed without him,” xukun suggests against yanchen’s lips. 

“baby, you’re so mischievous,” yanchen chuckles, bucking his hips up against xukun’s body. “that’s not how this game works, though. i want both of you.” 

xukun feels a shiver go down his spine, and he has the sudden urge to get on his knees for yanchen. zhengting is right—yanchen could be their new daddy.


	7. wild boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been two days since i updated and i felt bad :((

“z-zhengting, I’m gonna _f-fucking crash_ the car,” yanchen groans, teeth gritted. he wants to put a hand in zhengting’s hair, but he’s afraid that if he lets go of the wheel, the car really might veer off.

zhengting lifts his head from yanchen’s lap, slurps loudly as he pulls off of yanchen’s cock to catch his breath.

“just keep your eyes on the road, prince,” he says with a grin, kissing the head of yanchen’s sex.

yanchen groans again and hits the back of his head against the headrest, trying his best not to take his eyes off the road. it all started with zhengting all dressed in that gorgeous silky black shirt with sparkles on his cheeks and his honey voice saying, “oh, i forgot xukun was driving up with kris, can i have a ride?” and yanchen isn’t sure if that’s a complete lie now, but then zhengting was all rosy cheeks and “let me thank you for driving me”, and suddenly yanchen’s pants are undone and zhengting’s face is buried in his lap.

zhengting swallows the whole of yanchen’s sex, and yanchen can feel him smiling against his thigh. the car swerves slightly when zhengting’s teeth scrape along the side of yanchen’s length, and yanchen finally loses all resolve to be good.

“goddammit, zhengting,” he mutters, threading his fingers through the hair at the back of zhengting’s head.

zhengting hums and gains vigor, bobs his head up and down and swirls his tongue around the head. what his mouth doesn’t cover, his hand does, making sure that not a centimeter of yanchen is untouched.

“am i better than xukun?” zhengting asks, nuzzling yanchen’s thigh as he catches his breath, thumbing over the slit at the head of yanchen’s cock.

“fuck, i’m not picking sides, sugar,” yanchen groans, bucking his hips up into zhengting’s hold, his foot stepping on the accelerator by mistake before he cautiously takes his foot off of the gas and manages to set the cruise control. “please, get your mouth back on me.”

“i thought you said i was distracting,” zhengting pouts, kissing down yanchen’s length.

“you are, but i’m five seconds from coming and the gps says we’ll be at lu estate in ten minutes, please, i’m fucking dying.”

zhengting doesn’t need more convincing, satisfied with yanchen’s level of begging. he wraps his full lips around yanchen’s length, swallows the entirety of his cock and sucks hard. yanchen grabs zhengting by the back of his head and bucks into his mouth, feeling zhengting choke.

“sugar, are you okay?” yanchen asks, and zhengting nods. “i’m gonna... i’m gonna fuck that slutty mouth of yours. pinch my thigh if you need me to stop.”

zhengting squeezes yanchen’s thigh, a sign of approval, to continue. yanchen holds zhengting’s face down in his lap as he fucks up hard into his mouth, blesses cars for having cruise control, blesses that the last few miles to lu estate are just straight road, blesses god for making zhengting’s mouth hot and silky and heavenly. the car swerves slightly, yanchen using one hand and half a brain to keep the car from careening off the damn cliff as yanchen fucks into zhengting's hot mouth. 

yanchen comes down zhengting’s throat, moans loudly as he feels zhengting swallow his load, winces when zhengting wont stop sucking the head of his dick, yells when zhengting sucks him into overstimulation and yanchen forces zhengting off of his dick.

“you’re fucking amazing,” yanchen breathes, slowing down the car considerably before leaning over and kissing zhengting on the mouth, lips sticky.

zhengting gives yanchen a big smile and pops a mint into his mouth. “anything for my prince.” his voice sounds wrecked, soft and scratchy. 

when they arrive at lu estate, kris and xukun are already there, having arrived just moment before them.

“hey, whore,” xukun says, helping zhengting out of the car and pulling him close by the waist, kisses him hard, and yanchen is sure xukun can taste his come on zhengting’s tongue because xukun looks directly at yanchen right as he licks zhengting’s lips.

“what took you guys so long?” kris asks, carrying in packs of beer.

“we got distracted,” zhengting says with a smirk.


	8. poly boys club

luhan is right. his house is pretty big. he only sees tao once in passing, glares at him from across the kitchen, across the living room, across the patio, across the pool, and then yanchen promptly turns away, zhengting’s hand on his cheek as he wraps his arms around his neck, kisses him hard.

“pay attention to me,” zhengting whines, all pouty lips and pulling at yanchen’s shirt. “i’m trying to seduce you to win this bet, and you’re not even paying attention to me.”

yanchen smiles, leans down and kisses zhengting, grabs him by the hips and hefts him onto the kitchen counter, stepping between his legs and kissing the lipgloss off his lips. “i’m tired of this bet,” yanchen mutters, pressing soft kisses to zhengting’s collarbones, tugging off zhengting’s jacket and pulling down the sleeve of his shirt to expose more of his shoulder. his hands wander up zhengting’s chest underneath his shirt, feels his tight stomach jerk under yanchen’s warm fingers.

“this place got a bed we can mess up?” yanchen murmurs against zhengting’s throat.

“yes, upstairs, third door on the right.”

“get up there. i’ll be up soon.”

they part with a kiss, yanchen slapping zhengting’s ass and nipping at his ear before yanchen makes a beeline among the crowd to find xukun. he finds xukun sipping on something light and frowning, brows furrowed. yanchen takes the cup from xukun’s hand and catches him by surprise, kisses him up the wall he’s leaning against before downing the entire cup. xukun stares at him blankly for a second before he smiles, but yanchen can tell he’s thinking of something else, distracted.

“everything alright?” yanchen asks, thumbing at xukun’s plump lip.

“yeah,” he says, but his pupils quiver.

“tell me later?” yanchen suggests, hoping xukun trusts him enough.

“yeah,” xukun mutters, leaning forward and kissing yanchen. “you taste like rum and zhengting,” he adds.

“you were drinking rum, and i was kissing zhengting. i’m choosing the winner today—come upstairs with me?”

xukun answers by tugging at yanchen’s shirt, both of them stumbling over rugs and feet as they continue to kiss their way upstairs. they bump into yanjun on the way, who whistles at them, and they loiter on the stairs for a bit as yanchen hastily unbuckles xukun’s jeans. they giggle down the hall and fall into the room, the third door on the right, and zhengting, on the bed, on his knees, naked, pouts.

“you’re late!” he exclaims, and xukun and yanchen both run to him and kiss him hard. they pin zhengting to the bed, kiss up and down his torso and leave the beginnings of hickeys on his hips.

“i found kunkun,” yanchen mutters, pulling back and thumbing at zhengting’s hip tattoo, a beautiful black feather.

“so who’re you choosing,” xukun asks, taking off his shirt and throwing it onto the floor, kissing zhengting on the cheek.

the pair stare at yanchen, waiting, and yanchen laughs, shimmying out of his jeans and tossing his shirt to the ground.

“i’m choosing both of you,” he says, climbing back onto the bed, one hand on zhengting’s chest and one hand in xukun’s hair.

three hearts skip a beat, and zhengting looks up at xukun, grins wide and giggles, and xukun leans down to kiss zhengting. when xukun pulls away from zhengting, zhengting pulls yanchen down for a kiss. the three manage to discard any other scraps of clothing clinging to their bodies before zhengting insists on getting on his knees, insists on taking two cocks in his mouth.

it’s the second time this day alone that yanchen has had zhengting’s mouth around his dick, and yanchen grabs at xukun, kisses him while zhengting occupies himself in pleasuring the two of them.

“he’s so good,” yanchen moans. “where’d he learn to suck dick like that?”

“born talent,” xukun moans back, threading his hand through zhengting’s hair as he bites yanchen’s bottom lip.

zhengting pulls off and grins at the both of them, sits up and grabs for xukun to kiss, reaches out blindly to grab yanchen and kisses him too.

“want yanchen to fuck me,” zhengting murmurs into xukun’s mouth. “want kunkun to watch.”

a shiver goes down xukun’s and yanchen’s spines, both boys clinging to each other before they pull away from zhengting’s addicting kisses and situate themselves. xukun grabs a bottle of lube from the nightstand and tosses it along with a condom from the drawer at yanchen.

“luhan has this room specifically for sex?” yanchen asks, warming up the gel on his fingers before pressing a digit against zhengting’s hole, smiling when he shivers and presses his face into the sheets.

“rather be prepared, right?” xukun says. “he endorses safe sex.”

“fucking _bless,”_ yanchen groans as he fingers zhengting open, zhengting who whines into the sheets, zhengting who raises his hips up to get yanchen’s fingers deeper in him, zhengting who reaches forward and grabs for xukun’s thighs, scratches at them, bites them before he wraps a hand around his length, kisses the slick head and swallows it.

yanchen’s three fingers in when zhengting finally wails loudly and presses his entire hip back. “fuck me, yanchen,” he begs, and yanchen just smirks, grabs zhengting by the back of the neck and shoves his face back onto xukun’s cock.

“you telling me what to do, sugar?” he says, voice deep and growly, and even xukun whimpers from hearing how low yanchen’s voice gets.

zhengting shakes his head, nails digging into xukun’s thighs as yanchen forces him to keep his mouth on xukun.

“go on, sugar,” yanchen says. “choke yourself on his cock. show him how you swallowed mine on the drive up here.”

xukun moans as the head of his cock reaches the back of zhengting’s throat. he can just imagine how they drove up here, yanchen, one hand on the wheel and one hand in zhengting’s hair; zhengting, pretty lips wrapped around yanchen’s thick sex sucking, cockwarming, and swallowing when yanchen comes down his throat.

“i knew i tasted you on his lips,” xukun laughs breathlessly.

“he’s such a good boy,” yanchen breathes, feels a chill ripple down zhengting’s spine at the praise. “but he’s also a little slut, popped open my jeans and just swallowed.”

“that’s him. that’s our whore, needy little bitch,” xukun laughs, none of the three miss the fact that xukun says _our._

zhengting falls into a rhythm of bobbing his head on xukun’s cock, finds comfort in the cadence, but he’s pulled back by the touch of yanchen’s condom-wrapped sex pushing into him, thick, heavy, hot. zhengting grabs for xukun’s hands and whimpers.

“oh my f-fucking god,” yanchen hisses, bottoming out. there’s little rest before he’s fucking into zhengting, hard, deep.

“harder, faster,” xukun orders, fingers threading into zhengting’s hair, and zhengting braces himself, understands what xukun is about to do.

yanchen grips zhengting’s hips with both hands, groans as he fucks into him faster, pelvis bruising against the flat of zhengting’s ass. zhengting moans around xukun’s dick, forgets to catch his breath as xukun forces zhengting’s head down on his cock, feels zhengting forgetting to breathe, throat convulsing.

“relax,” xukun says, petting zhengting’s hair, but he’s wound up and too focused on yanchen pounding into him. xukun pulls out of zhengting’s mouth. zhengting sputters and whines at the loss.

“daddy,” he cries, scratches at xukun’s thighs.

“catch your breath first, darling,” xukun’s says, and when zhengting finally does, xukun skull fucks zhengting, moaning with yanchen about how hot and tight and wet and amazingly beautiful zhengting is.

there’s something so beautifully soft about the two of them that has yanchen’s bones thrumming, has his heart melting soft and bleeding for the two of them. xukun cradles zhengting’s head as he lets zhengting suck on him, let’s him make all the noise he wants while xukun thrusts into his mouth, mouth parted, eyes never leaving zhengting’s face.

“g-god,” yanchen groans, feeling zhengting tighten around him suddenly. “i’m gonna c-come.”

xukun looks up, stares at yanchen, nods as he rubs his thumb over zhengting’s cheek. yanchen sneakily slides hands up zhengting’s torso, brushes his fingers over his nipples, chuckles into his spine when zhengting jerks, sensitive. zhengting squeezes around yanchen again, and yanchen groans, grabs zhengting by the back of the neck, stills his hips, and pulls out, ripping the condom off and feeling his cock pulse against his abdomen for a second.

“why’d you stop?” zhengting cries, lays on his side as he turns to look at yanchen.

“wanna... fuck xukun before i come,” he pants, legs spread, trying to catch his breath.

xukun doesn’t let him. he grabs another condom from the drawer, rips it open, slides it into yanchen’s length as yanchen hisses at how warm and tight xukun’s hands are.

“you’re so hot,” xukun whispers into yanchen’s mouth, pushes him to lay down as he straddles his hips and sinks himself down onto yanchen’s cock.

the three of them moan at the feel and the sight. zhengting slithers over to lay next to yanchen, kisses his lips and sucks hickeys into his collarbones as xukun rides him. it’s not until zhengting licks over yanchen’s nipple does yanchen start to fuck into xukun with fervor, gripping his hips tight and taking control.

“y-you guys fucking _wreck_ me,” he moans, feel himself finally crash, releases into the condom.

xukun continues to fuck himself on yanchen’s lap, shivers at the way warmth spreads through his body as he finally comes over yanchen’s chest.

“you’re both messy,” zhengting complains as he swipes his finger through the mess.

xukun flips zhengting onto his back as yanchen slips out of xukun, ties off the condom and set it on the edge of the bed. yanchen dips his head between zhengting’s thighs as xukun plays with his nipples, both smiling as zhengting loudly giggle-moans between, “oh, xukun!” and “yes, yanchen!”

zhengting comes in yanchen’s mouth, and yanchen pulls xukun into a kiss, shares half the mess with him before they let the come and spit drip down their chin and onto zhengting’s body, all splayed out and beautiful, panting and worn out.

“fuck,” yanchen mutters, wiping his chin with the corner of the bedspread, and zhengting grimaces, smacks yanchen’s hand for doing that. “that was amazing.”

“i’m glad you picked both of us,” zhengting mutters as he reaches for xukun, begs to be held.

yanchen sighs and lays beside the couple, rests his head in zhengting’s shoulder.

“you wanna talk about earlier, kunkun?” yanchen asks, and xukun purses his lips.

“just ziyi,” he mutters, frowning, playing with zhengting’s fingers as if his tone wasn’t saying, _‘this is a big fucking deal.’_

“what’d that bastard do now?” zhengting growls, about to sit up. “i swear, i won’t hesitate to kick him.”

“don’t. it’s fine,” xukun exclaims, kisses zhengting so he’ll lay back down.

“what happened with ziyi?” yanchen asks.

“he...” zhengting pauses. “we used to date him, and then he cheated on us.”

“what?”

“with jeffrey,” xukun adds.

“the kid who only wears leather and sunglasses at night?”

“yeah.” zhengting turns in his side to look at yanchen. “jeffrey’s not a bad guy. he’s just a little stupid. there’s a lot of other stuff ziyi did that just... it’s fucking complicated.”

“it’s fine,” yanchen mutters, means forward and kisses his nose. zhengting scrunches his face and kisses yanchen on the mouth before turning to xukun and doing the same.

“should we get back to the party downstairs?” yanchen asks.

“nah,” zhengting says. “but if one of you goes downstairs, can you get me a bottle of water and bring back snacks.”

he gives them that smile, that fairy smile all rosy cheeks and tousled hair, beautiful eyes and come splattered on his collarbone.


	9. fight boys club pt. -1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clarification: this is a sorta flashback, so this is before yc meets zhengkun. ziyi though--that's a different story >.> come into my cc to talk theories and speculation i love ideas

tao’s within earshot when yanchen says it.

_“—small dick.”_

it takes two large steps for tao to be in front of yanchen, one large fist in yanchen’s uniform as tao shoves him up against the wall, nose-to-nose, hot breath and racing hearts. yanchen knows he’s caught, red-handed and blistering rage. neither of them are known for being level-headed. 

_“you._ you’re the one saying shit about me,” tao mutters.

yanchen spits in his face, growls low: “it’s not shit if it’s true.”

tao immediately punches yanchen in the cheek, red already blossoming against his pale skin. yanchen kicks tao in the stomach, makes him drop yanchen to the floor.

“you bitch. you mad i got something you don’t?” tao snorts, shoulders raised, perfectly gelled hair-do just one hair out of place.

yanchen kicks him again, euphoric at the way someone gasps, at the way that the toe of his shoe hits fleshy stomach. “just mad a prick like you manages to stick it in places it doesn’t belong. you’re a goddamn manwhore!” he snaps, goes to kick tao again, but tao grabs his ankle and pulls him to the ground.

yanchen hits his head on the ground before he sees the crowd forming around them. tao straddles his waist and punches his cheek, wails on his face before yanchen manages to push him off after he feels a definite bruise starting to form.

“at least I can fucking _get some,”_ tao snarls. “you’re gonna die a goddamn virgin.”

yanchen is about to lunge at tao again, but yankai throws his arms around him, holds him back, whispers something about calming down, but yanchen’s blood boils out of his skin, wants to tear tao’s stupid smirk off his face. a teacher walks past, glares at tao’s bruised jaw and yanchen’s red cheek, points at them both. 

“headmaster’s office.”

* * *

yanchen’s mother is out of town for a political conference, so his father has to pick him up from school—suspended.

“what’d you do?” his father asks.

“got into a fight.” yanchen nurses his bruised cheek, presses the ice pack the school gave him. the swelling hasn’t gone down.

“hmm. with who?”

“huang zitao.”

the car veers slightly as his father’s hand jerks the wheel, leans over to slap yanchen hard in the back of the head. yanchen knows it’s coming, yet the force of the blow still has him jerking so that his head hits the glass of the window.

weak, he thinks. if they had been at a stop light, he’s sure the hit would’ve been harder. 

“fight with anyone. fight with lin, luo, xu. fight with _anyone,_ but _not huang._ huang zitao—goddammit. you know he’s rich. you know he’s one of us. you know he’s more than us, so why would you fuck a business deal like that up? what if he tells his father, huh? you want me to look like an idiot? want my business to fucking _fail?_ want us to be poor and have no house and no food? all because what? he said something _mean to you_ or whatever.”

“da—”

“shut the fuck up, yanchen.” 

yanchen stays quiet for the rest of the ride, folds his arms over his chest and glares out the window. when they arrive home, his father immediately goes inside and pulls a pill bottle out of the cabinet. “apologize to zitao tomorrow. don’t engage with him afterwards,” he orders.

“the fuck is that?” yanchen mutters, ignoring what his father’s said, eyeing the bottle, notices it’s unlabeled. 

“keep to your damn self, son,” his father mutters, swallows two pills dry.

“dad, are those narcotics?” 

his dad waves his hand at him, starts to stumble off, but yanchen blocks his path and wrestles the bottle out of his hands. small disk pills, colored, not prescript. 

“you can’t have these,” yanchen breathes, brows furrowed, frowns hard as he glares at his father.

“i do what i want.” he reaches for the bottle, but yanchen pulls back out of his reach.

“you can’t _have_ these! you swore these off! you went to fucking rehab! you wanna go again?” yanchen cries. “you talk big about me bringing down the damn company, but _this is even worse!_ this could get our entire holdings confiscated!” 

“it’s been a long day, and it’s not like you’ve helped much.” 

yanchen clenches his jaw, throws the pills back at his father. it’s not like he’d listen anyways. they’ve been over this time and again. he doesn’t listen. yanchen climbs the stairs up to his room, sighs as he lays down and thumbs through his phone. his mother might’ve taken his phone away if she found out he was suspended, but luckily, she’s out of the country. 

he taps a number he doesn’t quite remember saving, lets it ring and is surprised when someone picks up. 

“ziyi, right?” he says.

“yeah.” 

“you free tonight? i got suspended.”


	10. soft boys club pt. 3

“it’s been, like, almost a month, right?” ruibin asks as he nudges xukun’s shoulder, brushes by him as he sets his entire makeup bag on xukun’s dining table. 

“yeah, it’s nice. we didn’t think he’d say yes—i mean, we thought he’d be open to a poly, but we didn’t think he’d actually say yes, you know? he’s like... yanchen’s a _huge_ fuck boy, so i’m glad he said yes to dating me and zhengting,” xukun muses, sits down at the table as he watches ruibin pull out all sorts of eyeshadows and powders. “how’s work?”

“stressful,” ruibin groans. “sephora’s not bad. sometimes someone complains about how overpriced it is or says something about me, a guy, working there, but it’s fun. zara’s has gotten weird lately.”

“what’s up at zara’s? that one girl isn’t still trying to flirt with you, right?”

they laugh together about how ruibin is pretty sure he’s at least 89% into guys. 

“linkai keeps showing up,” he says, handing xukun one of the lipsticks. 

“linkai? what for? he doesn’t wear zara.” he starts trying to apply the lipstick, but ruibin grabs it from him; xukun doesn’t quite understand why. 

“i don’t know, but he’s spent over $5000 there in the past month. does zhengting like pink or red lipstick?”

“red. what’s he shopping there for? he’s a yeezy boy.”

“god, i really hate when he wears those shoes.”

“we all do.” xukun stands up to grab a drink out of the fridge, brings over a soda for ruibin. 

“okay,” ruibin finally says, sits down in front of xukun with his mirror. “what kinds of makeup do you wanna get zhengting? i pretty much brought the entire store with me.”

xukun smiles, and they spend the next two hours drinking juice and trying to do winged eyeliners on each other, giggling when xukun draws his wing up into ruibin’s eyebrow, giggling again when ruibin draws his lines shakily and wobbly and accidentally pokes xukun in the eye.

“you made me laugh!” ruibin exclaims, pushes at xukun playfully. 

xukun laughs and scrunches his face, the eyeliner still wet and leaving little, wet dots on his upper eyelids. ruibin chuckles and licks his thumb, reaches up to xukun’s eyelids and tries to rub the spots away before grabbing a q-tip and makeup remover to make his lines straighter. 

“it’s because you’re bi,” xukun jokes as ruibin fixes the lines. ruibin laughs at the joke.

“how’s the thing with ziyi?” ruibin asks, wide eyes all concerned because he was there when xukun raved about how tall and handsome and mysterious ziyi was, ranted about how kind and sweet he was, bragged about all the gifts ziyi had once given him, cried about how ziyi had broken his heart and left him and zhengting without so much of an apology. polys were difficult, but there’s nothing difficult about keeping it in your pants, xukun had said.

“god, that’s… a mess,” xukun mutters, about to put his face in his hands, but ruibin stops him, reminding him of the makeup on his face.

“do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. “i saw him talk to you at the party the other week.”

“yeah, i mean… it wasn’t much. it could’ve been much worse. he was tipsy and saying shit about yanchen, something about how yanchen wasn’t really who we thought he was, but it’s not like i’m gonna listen to a drunk ziyi.” 

“good for you! don’t listen to him. he’s a dick anyways. yanchen’s nice, and he gets along with everyone. i like him.”

 _“and_ he’s not sticking it in jeffrey.” 

“i heard that they broke up again like two months ago, but i didn’t find out until just now.”

xukun scoffs. “i’m not surprised. ziyi’s not one to really stay down, i guess. and they've been on and off since zhengting and i broke up with him.” 

“hope jeffrey’s doing okay though. i know he feels bad about helping ziyi cheat on your and zhengting.” 

xukun shrugs and stares at ruibin, heart like marshmallow fluff. ruibin’s so soft.

“do you like anyone?” xukun asks randomly. 

ruibin sits back in his seat, eyes wide and lips sort of pouting. “maybe,” he mutters softly. “why?”

“well, i mean, it’s just a question, and i heard that mubo has a crush on you.” 

ruibin chokes on his juice. “i can’t imagine _anyone_ having a crush on me,” he laughs.

“you’re super cute and handsome! everyone has a crush on you!” ruibin makes a gesture to dismiss xukun, trying not to blush so hard. “so who do you have a crush on?” xukun asks, leaning forward. 

“it’s embarrassing,” ruibin whines, hands on xukun’s shoulders as he grabs a lipstick and applies it to xukun’s lips, pretty, pink, glossy. 

“i won’t tell,” xukun promises, one hand on ruibin’s knee, pursing his lips. 

ruibin pouts and xukun looks in the mirror. “this color would look good on yanchen,” xukun mutters, a thumb swiping over his bottom lip. 

“it’s my favorite one,” ruibin mentions. 

xukun stares at ruibin for a long moment, grabs him by the back of the neck, kisses him, chaste and gentle, feels the color transfer from xukun’s lips to his. ruibin shivers and leans his forehead against xukun’s, smiles at the memory of the first time they did that. 

“you’re really not gonna tell me, binbin?” xukun whines again. “me? _your best friend?”_

ruibin rolls his eyes. “promise not to tell?”

xukun nods, seals his lips.

“bi wenjun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's a platonic kiss. don't @ me saying cxk cheated with that kiss bc he didn't.


	11. pierced boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a filler episode. our regular plot will resume at some point lol but i had this idea in my head so i wrote it bc i thought it was cute
> 
> btw, i made a playlist for rich boys on spotify. [go check it out!](https://open.spotify.com/user/lnzeie46zsbylz4g9us0h9gg9/playlist/6H8jo0x3d40jo5J7OI3oyF?si=GiUCd1zJSTeZJXZ4dDr5Jg)

they’re aware that zhengting has been wanting piercings, and yanchen and xukun have both known what kind of piercings zhengting wants, so it’s no surprise to them when zhengting takes the initiative to clear their schedules himself and force them to take him to the piercing parlor, all bright eyes and eager smile, all “sit here and wait for me.”

they haven’t discussed the piercings, but xukun and yanchen giggle, already know what zhengting has in mind. they sit on the couch in the waiting area, playing with each other’s fingers, kissing up and down each other’s necks, peruse the basic tattoos that this place offers, laughs at the mediocrity of the artwork. 

“i have one on my thigh,” yanchen says.

“yeah, i’ve seen it. i’ve seen you naked,” xukun laughs, rests his head on yanchen’s shoulder. “what is it, though?”

“thought you said you’d seen it,” yanchen quips, flips the laminate page.

“okay, i have, but i was a little too busy sucking your dick to really notice,” he retaliates, loops an arm through yanchen’s and hugs him close. 

“it’s a pretty standard tattoo, just a wolf, you know?” he moves his hand so he can grab xukun’s fingers, twines them together. “thinking about getting another one. maybe a quote or something.” 

“do it,” xukun says immediately. “i like seeing you with tats.”

yanchen looks at xukun, smiles, thinks maybe xukun’s a little too into bad boys. he can see how ziyi managed to catch his heart so easily. 

yanchen and xukun have gone through several magazines and the entire book of tattoos by the time zhengting comes out of the room, flustered but definitely happy. 

“finally!” xukun and yanchen scream, both pay quickly with a swipe of credit cards before dragging zhengting out to the car. 

they’re barely home before xukun and yanchen press him against the counter, yanking at the hem of zhengting’s shirt. 

“which one did daddy pay for?” xukun asks, eager to get zhengting’s shirt off of him, eager to see.

“the left one,” he says, lets yanchen pull his shirt up and off of him so his boyfriends can stare at his chest.

two barbells, one through each nipple, still red and fresh from insertion, but nonetheless, sparkly and adorable on zhengting’s body. they’re dusky and round and definitely swollen, but it makes yanchen want to tug on the metal rod, makes xukun want to put it in his mouth and bite, makes them both want to see zhengting cry from how much they’re going to play with his nipples and chafe them. 

“they look lovely,” yanchen says, reaches out to touch, manages to press his thumb against the swollen skin of zhengting’s nipple before he smacks his hand away.

“don’t! they still hurt!” he yells, pushes both of them away as he grabs his shirt, tries to suddenly cover himself up, and xukun makes a joke about zhengting being modest for once.

“sugar, come here,” yanchen complains, running after zhengting and catching him around his middle.

“let us touch, just once,” xukun pouts, presses gentle kisses to zhengting’s throat, fingers ghosting too near zhengting’s areolas and brushing over his nipples. zhengting half moans, half whines openly, pushing xukun’s hands away.

“no!” he yells, twists in yanchen’s arms. “you’re both insatiable. just because i got piercings, you think i want you to touch them?”

“that’s exactly why you wanted piercings,” yanchen mutters in his ear, breath hot, and zhengting can’t help it when his cock responds. he’s sensitive, and yanchen’s right, but the more yanchen and xukun play with his nipples, the more they’ll hurt and the longer they’ll be swollen.

“l-let me take a nap. at least let them heal before playing with them. jeez. i know you, you’re fucking rough,” he says, but xukun grabs zhengting’s hips while yanchen kisses his neck.

“baby, you look so good though,” xukun breathes over zhengting’s sensitive skin, smiles when zhengting’s entire body tries to arch away from him. zhengting whimpers, stares down at xukun with those big eyes, knows zhengting wants him to touch but whines at the thought of them being sore. 

“you’re so cute,” yanchen murmurs int zhengting’s hair, grinds against him as a hand comes up and pinches zhengting’s pierced nipple. 

zhengting yelps, smacks yanchen’s hand away. “you’re so mean!” he cries, pushing yanchen away and falling into xukun’s arms, but xukun pushes zhengting down onto the couch, leans down and bites the other nipple. 

zhengting screams again and hits xukun on the head, completely unapologetic as he scrambles off the couch and onto his feet, arms crossed over his body, his hands pressed firmly against his new piercings.

“that’s it! no touching until it heals!” he demands. “you’re both so mean! i’m going to take a nap, and don’t follow me! you don’t get cuddles.” zhengting storms off, runs upstairs to his room, and xukun sits up on the couch, chuckles as yanchen comes over and kisses him on the mouth.

“he’s sensitive,” xukun says, pulls yanchen down onto the couch with him.

“how worth it was it to play with it for that split second?” yanchen laughs, leans down and kisses xukun’s lips, moans when xukun slips a tongue into his mouth.

“it was so worth it,” xukun says. “he really hates us for playing with them though, doesn’t he?”

“he’ll get over it.”

“maybe i should get piercings too.” 

yanchen’s chest rumbles. “do it. i fucking dare you.”

xukun pushes yanchen down onto the couch, smirks as he climbs into yanchen’s lap, asks, “what do you want me to pierce?”

yanchen grabs xukun’s hips, pulls them down while he grinds up, let’s xukun feel how much the idea turns him on. “anything, daddy.”


	12. yacht boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanna formally apologize to every single xiaobin shipper out there, which at this point it probs like 5 people, but i'm gonna apologize to each of your personally for this chapter and the upcoming drama istg i love xiaobin pls don't yell @ me uwu

“i can’t believe this. i’m never going to have a crush ever again. it sucks,” linkai groans, kicks his feet against xingjie’s chair, who turns around and glares at him.

“god, linkai, you’ve been complaining about this for _weeks,”_ yanchen says, focusing his eyes on the road. “like, we get it. you like ruibin a lot, and ruibin said he likes someone else. honestly, get over it.”

“easy for you to say! you have _two_ boyfriends!” he screams, and yanchen regrets saying he’d drive linkai to the yacht. 

“it’s not like ruibin hates you,” xingjie says. “and as far as we know, wenjun doesn’t like him back.”

“oh, wenjun definitely doesn’t like him back,” zhou rui says. “have you seen the way he looks at zhengting?”

“whipped,” xingjie mutters. 

“okay, but wenjun is tall and charming and sings well and he’s smart,” linkai rambles. “that’s like… ruibin’s type. i mean… i think he’d like smart guys, right? ugh, i didn’t have a chance anyways.” 

“hey, just chill out,” xingjie says. “ruibin’s gonna be at this party, and you can chat him up and talk to him. no big deal. just stay calm.” 

linkai is anything but calm. by the time they finally push off from the dock, he’s already had three beers, bouncing nervously on the couches by the head of the boat, sticking his face in the wind like a dog. bufan joins him, if only with the original intention to get him off the actual bow of the yacht. 

“he’s a mess,” yanchen mutters into zhengting’s neck, hugs him from behind. he pulls down the collar of zhengting’s t-shirt to expose a bit of his shoulder, kisses it, runs his hands down zhengting’s chest, fingers brushing over his pierced nipples before zhengting playfully and a little forcefully pushes yanchen, whining loudly. 

“is it the ruibin thing?” zhengting says, turning around and looping his arms around yanchen’s neck. “i mean… i’m pretty sure wenjun doesn’t have a thing for ruibin, so he’s safe.” 

“that’s what we told him on the way here, but he’s still pretty upset. thinks ruibin likes smart boys.” 

they spot ruibin in the shade talking to jeffrey, and zhengting purses his lips. “i don’t know. he hangs out with a lot of dumb ones,” he snorts, pulls yanchen down for a kiss, and yanchen gives him two. 

xukun anchors the boat near an island, close enough for them to swim to and walk around, but far out enough that they could swim comfortably. the first one in the water is zhou rui, only because linkai and xingjie push him in when his back is turned.

“guys! you know i just got my hair done!” he yells, splashing water at them. zhou rui neglects to mention that his phone had also been in his pocket, but he’s sure that his warranty will cover it. 

they sip daiquiris and eat fruit and snacks they’d brought along. jeffrey lounges on a floating raft tied to the boat with a beer in hand, scrolling instagram with no cares in the world. linkai manages to find a couple of scallops on the seafloor, which xingjie shells and lets everyone have a taste. it’s sweet and soft and it makes zhengting want to climb into xukun’s lap and kiss him silly, so he does, pulls yanchen over and sits in both their laps while they play with his hair and watch from afar as ling chao keeps pushing justin’s head underwater and chengcheng laughs about it. 

“yanchen-ge!” linkai calls from the water. “can you grab my sunglasses? they’re in the stateroom.” 

yanchen sighs, disentangles himself from zhengting and xukun’s sticky limbs, kisses their pouts as he goes off to get linkai’s glasses. zhengting, clingy, follows after yanchen, holds his hand as they kiss their way down the stairs and giggle. they open the stateroom without checking, bursting in and nearly jumping back when they see skin and skin, lips and lips. ruibin and wenjun. ruibin on top of wenjun. ruibin, all toned arms, toned chest, toned thighs on top of wenjun, slender but toned arms, soft but dominant in the way that one hand wraps around ruibin’s neck, the other gripping his hip. zhengting didn’t know either of them were so… fit. thank god they’re both still mostly clothed.

zhengting isn’t sure who is more startled, ruibin or himself. his bones grow cold at the way that wenjun seems to glare at him, seems to be completely unbothered and a little bit smug. it’s odd to see someone he’s grown up with in this situation, someone he used to hug under blankets in the winter and host make-believe tea parties with stuffed animals, shoving his tongue down another friend’s throat. perhaps it’s also a little weird seeing him all bare chest and splayed out, hand on ruibin’s hip to keep him exactly where he is, lips swollen red and pressing to ruibin’s throat, definitely still trying to continue where they left off.

perhaps it’s weird because zhengting once kissed those lips. 

“what do you need?” wenjun asks, prompt and brisk. 

“we’re just here for linkai’s sunglasses,” yanchen says, thrusts himself into the room, into the tense atmosphere, and grabs the tinted glasses from the night stand. “go back to whatever you guys were doing.” 

yanchen grabs zhengting by the wrist, pulls him out of the room before zhengting has a chance to quip a witty, _use protection!_

“t-they—” 

“don’t tell linkai,” yanchen says immediately. 

“what? o-of course i’m not gonna tell lin—”

“zhengting.” yanchen presses him up against the fake wood, plastic wall; it would be a hot scene and prime for a quick make out and possible blowjob if not for the fact that yanchen’s eyebrows are all furrowed, his eyes dark and serious, the corners of his mouth frowning hard. “you _can’t_ let linkai know. i’m serious. this could really hurt him, and i don’t wanna see him hurt.”

zhengting bites his lip, nods slightly before he presses a soft kiss to yanchen’s lips, begs him to let up, begs him to be soft and gentle and light, and yanchen immediately gives in, wraps his arms around zhengting’s waist and grinds against him before they part. 

they return to the top deck, and yanchen throws linkai’s sunglasses at him into the water before jumping in, splashes around and swims. zhengting takes a seat in xukun’s lap, presses soft kisses to his neck.

“what’s wrong, baby?” xukun asks.

“nothing… i’m just afraid,” zhengting murmurs, curls up on xukun’s lap.

“of what?”

“what wenjun’s planning on doing.” 

xukun presses a soft kiss to zhengting’s neck, doesn’t ask what he’s talking about. perhaps he doesn’t want to know. zhengting knows wenjun better than anyone in the rich boys club, knows him inside out and then some, and perhaps xukun doesn’t want to get involved with that kind of depth. he might drown. 

“hey,” xingjie calls, dripping wet as he stumbles back onto the boat with chengcheng in tow. “do we have a first aid kit?”

“yeah, why?” xukun says, getting zhengting off his lap. 

“i kicked the propeller and it cut my foot,” chengcheng says, tracking watery blood onto the boat. 

zhengting screams something about being reckless while xukun keeps yelling at chengcheng not to sit on the white couches and to put a towel down. no one quite notices when ruibin and wenjun come out of the stateroom, clinging to each other, hand-in-hand, soft. 

linkai notices that ruibin isn’t wearing the same bathing suit bottoms that he first showed up in.


	13. smoke boys club

“you got a new one,” ziyi mentions when as ziyang rolls up a joint, licks the paper and seals it. 

“mhmm,” he says, and it doesn’t mean anything. ziyang’s not much of a talker really, and ziyi doesn’t take offense. he’s used to talking by himself to a cloudy room, getting high on the residue smoke from ziyang’s lungs, but they’ve long since passed smoking and ventured into other blissful remedies, but tonight is a mellow night. ziyi’s aesthetic is soft blue lights and the hazy smoke between their fingers, sheer curtains and the sunset peering through to check up on them. 

“another flower?” ziyi asks. 

ziyang just hands him the blunt and starts to roll up another one while ziyi lights up the joint he’s given. he flops back onto ziyang’s bed and sighs out smoke, looks over at ziyang and stares at the rose on his back. ziyang's his own canvas of flowers and other miscellaneous drawings. ziyi wonders if ziyang would rather be objectified, hung on display and admired from afar. is this why he's always so reserved? ziyi's fingers reach up and trace the flower on ziyang's back, presses his fingertips unto the ink. 

“this your first one?”

“no,” ziyang says. “my first was on my hand, the planet one.” he reaches his hand behind his back to let ziyi see, and ziyi ends up playing with his fingers, his own brushing over the inked planet before he lets ziyang have his hand back. 

“why?”

ziyang shrugs. “dunno. maybe i wanted to get off of earth one day.” 

ziyi thinks ziyang reads too many books. 

“fuck… i wanna see xukun,” ziyi mutters, throws and arm over his eyes. he feels ziyang take the blunt from his fingers, hears the sizzle of plant and paper burning before he feels ziyang lay down next to him. 

“you’re a piece of shit, you know,” ziyang mutters. “you cheated on them. you shouldn’t get a say in what they want now.” 

“i know,” ziyi says, takes the blunt back from ziyang and inhales. “but i love him.” 

“love or loved?” 

ziyi sighs out more smoke.

“what about jeffrey?” ziyang asks, stares into ziyi’s eyes, wonders if ziyi reads enough books. 

“i… maybe love him too,” he finally says, leans over ziyang and taps the ash outside the window. 

“love him instead, then.” ziyang reaches up and takes the blunt from ziyi, smokes it. “xukun has zhengting and yanchen. you have jeffrey.” 

“yanchen,” ziyi spits. “they don’t know the first thing about that motherfucker.”

“and you do?” ziyang raises a brow. 

“i do.” ziyi doesn’t elaborate beyond that.

ziyang takes his silence, an odd role reversal for today. he lets the smoke curl between them and paint nonsensical pictures in grey against the white ceiling, but curiosity eventually wins out. 

“how involved?” ziyang finally asks. 

“somewhat. it wasn’t meant to last, but i’m pissed because xukun and zhengting make it out to be that yanchen is their saving grace, like he fell from the sky and is an angel or some bullshit, but he’s just as bad as me.” 

“so you admit you’re bad for them?” ziyang chuckles. 

ziyi snorts, lays chest-to-chest with ziyang, rests his head on ziyang’s shoulder, huffs at how uncomfortable it is, his body is begging for him to stay, begging for affection, so he shifts several times to get his sharp joints out of ziyang's sharp joints. ziyang moves them so that they’re on their sides, spoons ziyi instead as he lights up a new blunt. 

“what’s new with you?” ziyi asks. 

“ling chao,” ziyang mutters like a worried father. 

“is it his family?”

“that too. his parents have him traveling again, and that always worries me. last time they made him go to havana, he missed two months of school and nearly failed biology, but apparently he has a thing for justin, which worries me even more.” 

ziyi laughs a little too hard, laughs at how ziyang troubles himself with ling chao’s school and health and love life. ziyi would love to have someone younger to coddle like that, but he’s got enough of his own problems. as ziyi laughs, ziyang takes the opportunity to grab his face, press their lips together and blow smoke into his mouth to shut him up. they part with deep sighs and hazy eyes. 

“not that i have anything against justin, but he literally could’ve picked anyone else and i would’ve been fine with it.” 

“you sure about that?” 

ziyang’s not sure about that. he’s less worried about ling chao’s heart being broken than he is about whoever decides to fall for ling chao getting hurt. he’s a heartbreaker, even if he doesn’t know it. ling chao is sharp bone and hidden porcupine quills. he’s unseen splinters and forgotten glass shards. perhaps whoever ends up with him will always have to cut their fingers on the shards of his life that they’re constantly picking up. ziyang’s hands understand the pain, understand what heaving sobs feel like beneath his palm, understand the piercing screech of a child whose family neglects him. 

ling chao isn’t just cold cut ice and chiseled diamond. he cuts like it too. he is the iceberg that the titanic could not escape.

“justin’s too soft for him,” ziyang finally says. “not just because i don’t want ling chao growing up, but i know justin won’t handle him.” 

“justin doesn’t handle anything well. i once saw him try to eat jello out of a cup with chopsticks. how does he expect to get into any kind of relationship? but that’s the thing about zhengting’s friends. they always think they can handle things.” 

“you were once zhengting’s friend.” 

“i was xukun’s friend.” 

“you were xukun’s and zhengting’s.” 

ziyi almost cries at what used to be.

“i’m calling him--”

“don’t.” ziyang grabs ziyi’s phone first, sits on it and dares ziyi to steal it back. they could fight. they could throw punches and watch bruises blossom the next morning, scowl at each other when ziyi texts xukun while high and regrets the next morning when xukun tells ziyi that he doesn’t want to talk to him. they used to be so good, used to kiss under the moonlight and smoke stolen blunts together, used to fuck on xukun’s swimming pool and bite hickeys into each other’s thighs. ziyi used to love zhengting too, used to give him little forehead kisses and wake him up with tickles, always invited zhengting to take a shower with him and fucked him up against the walls of zhengting’s bedroom. the three of them were good until ziyi clung too tightly to xukun, until zhengting clung too tightly to xukun, until zhengting slapped ziyi’s palms like a bad dog. their hearts never quite aligned correctly, the wrong puzzle pieces. 

jeffrey and ziyang were among the only ones ziyi could really talk to about the matter, because it wans’t like linong knew how to deal with relationships, but ziyang was too preoccupied with his drugs and his family and his ling chao, and jeffrey was so sweet and kind and understanding. perhaps his plump lips softened the blow when zhengting threw ziyi’s clothes out the window and forced him out of xukun’s life. ziyi can’t blame him. he runs fingers through his hair, frustrated, annoyed, a little heartbroken at memories that always play back in the smoke that he and ziyang exhale.

“i wanna see him so bad,” he sobs. 

“you don’t have the right to.” 

ziyi’s jaw tightens, lays back down on the bed with his head in ziyang’s lap. 

“let me call jeffrey then.” 

ziyang taps ziyi’s forehead, hands him his phone and takes a drag of his blunt.

“good boy.”


	14. dinner boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh i feel like this is really messy but uhh asl;dkjf hopefully it's good pls love me

“come to dinner with me,” zhengting says, clings to yanchen’s neck as he shifts in his lap. 

“sure, sugar. where do you wanna eat?” yanchen asks, presses a kiss to zhengting’s lips, but he can feel that zhengting’s not into it, distracted, somewhere else.

zhengting shakes his head. “no, i mean… come have dinner at my place. my mother’s cooking,” he clarifies. 

“oh.” 

_“oh.”_ a chorus of their friends echo. 

yanchen’s neither thrilled nor disappointed. a dinner with zhengting’s mother doesn’t sound bad, but the way zhengting’s shaking in his hands makes him think otherwise, and even just looking at zhengting, the rest of the rich boys can tell that zhengting isn’t enthusiastic about the affair. 

“is this because kunkun’s out of the country right now?” yanchen asks. 

“yes and no,” zhengting says.

“does your mom still hate xukun?” chengcheng asks, chomping on a banana. 

“yeah, i guess. at least she stopped calling him a circus freak.”

“what?” yanchen feels a rage already boiling beneath his skin, and zhengting presses a kiss to his collarbone. 

“his mom’s a traditionalist,” wenjun says, his arm wrapped around ruibin’s shoulder. “justin once joked about wanting to be street performer, and she looked like she was going to throw him out of the house. if you’re not a doctor or a lawyer or a model, she pretty much is guaranteed to hate you.” 

“classist,” xinchun mutters.

“elitist,” zeren chimes in, but it stops there, because zhengting’s frown deepens and despite the fact that they all clearly know zhengting’s contrasting views on his mother, it’s still his mother. 

“i told her i didn’t want to be a model, and we got in a huge fight a few years back,” zhengting says. “i threw ribbons and shredded her design.” 

“but xukun is a model,” yanchen says. “why doesn’t she like him?”

“his mother’s a freelance artist,” ruibin says. “so zhengting’s mom thinks that xukun’s family is unstable and not going to keep their money.” 

“as if modeling’s a steady gig,” zhengting snorts. 

“what did you want to be that she didn’t like?” yanchen asks, shifts zhengting so that he’s further up on his thighs and not cutting off the circulation to his knee. 

zhengting looks up at yanchen, wraps his arms around his neck, kisses his cheek. “i wanted to be a dancer.”

* * *

yanchen shows up to zhengting’s house in his second best suit and his best dress shoes. his hair is lightly gelled and he’s wearing those wire rimmed glasses that xukun thinks looks hot on him. when yanchen steps through the house, zhengting grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him down into a kiss, all strawberry lip gloss and nerves. yanchen can feel zhengting shaking between his palms.

“calm down, sugar,” yanchen whispers against his cheek. “it’ll be fine.”

“i just don’t want her to hate you too,” zhengting says, finally pulls away and takes a breath. “come on, i’ll show you the house.” 

zhengting’s house is nothing remarkable, and they both know it. it’s pictures of zhengting and his family, pictures of their best photoshoots, their best headshots, abstract art, chandeliers. it’s nothing different from the other rich boy houses, but it’s zhengting’s house, and yanchen marvels at the color of their ceiling and how clean their carpet it, how much space they have in their living room and the chairs in their dining room. in the waiting parlor, yanchen comes up behind zhengting as he’s explaining some story he had about xukun liking the statuettes perched on the hearth, and he wraps his arms around zhengting’s waist. 

“your house is so nice,” yanchen mutters, kisses zhengting’s neck.

“shut up,” he giggles. “it’s just a house.” 

“but it’s pretty, and you’re pretty, and that floor to ceiling mirror you have in the living room? sugar, you know i’d fuck you up against it in a heartbeat.” 

zhengting shivers, hands gripping at yanchen’s forearms around his waist. “p-prince, please.” 

“mm, strip you slowly, watch you, make kunkun watch you. we’d take lots of pictures too, and we’d fuck you against the mirror, make you watch me fuck you, make kunkun watch you fuck him.” 

“you know, i’ve done that before,” zhengting giggles, and yanchen groans, buries his face into zhengting’s neck and tries to ignore that his cock may have pulsed against the back of zhengting’s thigh at the thought of needy, whiny, plump-lipped xukun getting fucked against a mirror. 

the clack of heels barely rings in yanchen’s ears as zhengting’s mother struts into the room, all beautiful and long like zhengting, all sharp jaw and piercing eyes like zhengting. 

“nice of you to introduce us, son,” she says, her words like ice, as sharp as her nails. 

the atmosphere grows immediately tense and cold, and zhengting is quickly trying to get yanchen’s arms off of him but clings to his wrist. “you said you didn’t want me to disturb you while you were in your… _creative fashion process.”_ there’s an immediate bite to zhengting’s tone and his words. 

yanchen makes the first move, pulls away from zhengting and bows to zhengting’s mother, extends a hand. “i’m zhou yanchen. nice to meet you.” 

she takes his hand, grips it tighter than yanchen expects, and lets it fall. she glares at him when he bows, but yanchen notices the way she lingers on the rolex watch, on the opened collar, on the lapel style of his blazer. she’s a fashion designer; she knows, and she smiles. 

“what happened to the other boy? finally dropped him, did you?” she asks zhengting, eyes never leaving yanchen’s face. it’s like a test, to see if he’ll crack or something, live up to some sort of standard, but yanchen’s jaw tightens, his eyes steel.

“no. he’s still around,” zhengting answers, steps forward and loops his arm through yanchen’s.

“so what are you? some kind of slut now?”

the air freezes between the three of them, and for once in his life, yanchen doesn’t know what to say. he stares between zhengting and his mother, biting his bottom lip. zhengting doesn’t even seem surprised, doesn’t seem like he even registers his own mother regarding him so derogatively. he holds tightly onto yanchen’s hand and says, “what’s for dinner?” 

they make their way into the dining room, all tense and nerves, all zhengting forgetting to breathe at moments and holding onto yanchen’s fingers too tightly, all zhengting’s mother saying, “paris was dreadful all weekend” and “you should give up on dance since you hurt your waist.” 

“is your mother always like this?” yanchen whispers to zhengting when they pass through the kitchen, zhengting’s mother 50 steps ahead of them. 

“yes,” he says. “xukun handles her really well somehow.” 

“he’s a fucking angel because i’m this close to telling her off.” 

dinner passes by in silence with the three of them, forks and knives scraping on plates and the audible gulp every time someone takes a sip of water. 

“what family are you?” zhengting’s mother asks. 

yanchen abruptly sits up. “zhou,” he says. “my father deals in business.” 

“strip clubs,” she says, glares hard at yanchen as she bites the steak off of her fork.

“investments,” he answers curtly, eyes narrowing. zhengting puts a hand on yanchen’s knee underneath the table, tries to keep him calm. 

“his family’s recently made some investments in xingjie’s family,” zhengting says, tries to get the tension to lighten up. 

“are you sleeping with the other one too?” she asks, takes a sip of her wine, doesn’t bother to give yanchen her eyes. 

zhengting puts his fork down, takes a deep breath and says, “ma, let’s just not talk about—” 

“yes.” 

the dining room holds a table of twelve, but yanchen’s suddenly made it feel like the three of them are sitting at a table for fifty. 

“oh. i see this slut’s roped you into his disgusting artist life then or whatever it is he believes in,” she gripes.

yanchen’s hand curls into a fist under the table, clenching his teeth. “actually, i'm in training to take over my father's company, but this _slut_ is my boyfriend, and xukun is also our boyfriend,” he says, tone icy cold. 

“oh, of course. what did i expect of rich, young men?” she says. “i’m sure the circus freak will go bankrupt one day and beg for money, if he hasn’t already. or will he coerce my son into selling his body for him, since he’s so eager to sleep with any boy who has cash and something hard to sit on.” 

“shut the fuck up!” zhengting grabs a nearby wine glass and throws it at his mother. it lands short and rolls on the table, but nevertheless, cracks against the hardwood. “all you do is criticize xukun and justin and xinchun and all of my other friends. leave them out of this! yanchen is good and he’s nice and he’s rich enough to put your ass out of business! just let me eat in peace!”

his mother scoffs, leans back in her chair and crosses her legs. 

“couldn’t be a gymnast because he broke his waist, so he had to go and be a cheap prostitute,” she scoffs. “he gets that temper from me, you know.”

yanchen bites his lip and cocks his head, chews on his steak as he grabs zhengting’s shaking hand underneath the table. 

“i get mine from my father,” yanchen mutters.

* * *

“so how was dinner?” xukun asks over a facetime call. he’s snuggled up in his bed with his pink pajamas, freshly showered and soft. 

“i might actually want to kill his mother,” yanchen says. “she’s a piece of work.” 

“yeah, she’s really rough. i didn’t expect it the first time either,” xukun says. “i remember she said, ‘oh, so you’re the one fucking my son and stealing our money.’ she hates me.” 

“she doesn’t hate you,” zhengting says. pauses. “okay, maybe a little.” 

xukun laughs as he watches yanchen finish changing into his pajamas. 

“at least it went better than the last time you were here,” zhengting mutters, hugs his pillow and pouts.

“what happened when kunkun was here?” yanchen asks, lays with one arm over zhengting’s back, nearly laying on top of him, presses a kiss to zhengting’s shoulder. 

“he yelled at her and called her a bitch,” zhengting chuckles, turns his head slightly to kiss yanchen’s lips.

“and then i cried when i got home,” xukun adds. he whines and presses his face into his pillows, and yanchen’s bones ache to hold him. 

“we miss you so much, baby,” yanchen purrs, pouts at the camera, and zhengting wishes he could sleep with both his boys beside him. 

“i miss you too, prince,” xukun mutters. “i’m so fucking tired. i just wanna kiss you guys.” 

“i’ll kiss prince lots for you,” zhengting says.

 _“liar,”_ xukun pouts. “you’re gonna keep all the kisses for yourself.” 

yanchen chuckles and nuzzles his face into zhengting’s back, listens to xukun and zhengting banter on about ksises and hugs and missing each other and waiting for xukun to get back in a week. it’s domestic, and it’s soft and sweet. yanchen falls asleep on zhengting’s bed to the sound of zhengting’s laughter and xukun’s whining.


	15. soft sad boys club

they don’t really know each other well, but they had a physics class that neither of them wanted to go to it, so they figured that they could test the physics of spinning on ice skates like anne hathaway did in that one movie about ice skating, but the problems is that neither chengcheng nor linkai know how to ice skate well enough. 

“i’ve only been twice,” chengcheng says. “once was on a cruise ship, and the other time was for a birthday party.” 

“i’ve gone a few times,” linkai says. “once was on a cruise ship too, but i was the little fucker that would use the toe pick and chip the ice a lot, so when someone would skate by they’d trip.” 

chengcheng laughs and says something about falling on his ass, but linkai isn’t really listening. 

“you okay?” chengcheng asks. “you’ve been out of it recently.”

“you pay attention to me?” linkai snorts, slows down his speed so that he can keep up with chengcheng’s stumbling pace. 

“sometimes. it’s kind of weird when we’re in chemistry and you haven’t set anything on fire in the first ten minutes, and you’ve been quiet when we have parties and in the group chat. it’s been like two weeks since you last asked us a ridiculous question, so it’s just… quiet. is something wrong?”

linkai’s heart suddenly hurts, wonders if anyone else has noticed how quiet he’s been, wonders if they care, wonders if ruibin knows or cares. 

“it’s stupid. it’s… nothing you can fix or anything,” he mutters, shrugs his coat higher and puts his hands in his pockets, but chengcheng clings to his elbow as they round the corner, tripping over nothing but catching his balance.

“you’re really bad at ice skating,” linkai laughs. 

“yeah. you sure you don’t wanna talk about it though?” chengcheng asks, and his eyes really look curious and genuine and maybe linkai has been holding it all in his chest for a little too long, but his lungs suddenly burn. 

“i like ruibin,” he confesses, all soft and maybe a little bit sad. 

“oh.” 

that’s all they really need to say, all that really needs saying. ruibin and wenjun are now an item, claimed. it’s not like yanchen, zhengting, and xukun who are exclusive-not-exclusives. ruibin and wenjun are off the market. linkai pulls his hand out of his pocket to shake out the numbness, and chengcheng grabs his fingers, stumbling over the ice again. on instinct, linkai’s hand tightens around chengcheng’s fingers and pulls him to stay on his feet. 

“did you see them—”

“when we went on the yacht? yeah…” linkai is too quick to answer, doesn’t really want to talk about the hickeys he saw on ruibin’s neck or the way he smiled a little too wide at wenjun when they were sailing back to the beach house. 

there’s a little bit more silence, all chengcheng concentrating on not falling over and linkai focusing on not falling over due to chengcheng pulling him down. 

“i’m surprised you asked me to come ice skating and not justin,” linkai says.

“well, you were there first,” chengcheng says. “also, justin skipped the whole day to hang out with ling chao.”

“ling chao?”

chengcheng is quiet for a little too long, but when linkai looks over, he doesn’t look sad. he’s contemplative, if not also a little frustrated.

“that’s all he talks about recently. ling chao, and trying to date him, i guess.” 

there’s an unspoken bond between chengcheng and justin, bros that are a little too close sometimes, and it’s not something linkai easily understands. the pair round another bend in the ice rink, and linkai’s surprised that chengcheng doesn’t fall down this time. 

“how do you feel about it?”

“shitty.” it’s an honest answer. “i don’t care, on the one hand, but i should because he’s my best friend, you know? like… i don’t mind them being a thing, but it gets annoying when someone talks about someone they like a lot, you know? and i just… don’t wanna lose him as a best friend.”

is this what xingjie feels like? linkai wonders, thinks about all the times he’s texted xingjie about ruibin, rambled on for hours on the phone, would badger him constantly about ruibin this and ruibin that. 

“i didn’t think they’d ever get together, you know?” chengcheng says, their conversation veering off again. “i always thought that wenjun had a thing for zhengting.” 

“that’s what everyone thought,” linkai says. “maybe we’re all just wrong.”

“or he’s doing something spiteful. i don’t know if you know, but wenjun and zhengting were kinda almost a thing.”

“i think everyone can guess that almost everyone was a thing or almost a thing with zhengting at some point.” 

“that’s true, but wenjun’s one of those ones who kinda never forgets. he clings onto memories and people and things. he clings to zhengting so tightly still.” 

“so what are you saying?”

chengcheng pauses for a moment and shrugs. “i dunno. i just… i don’t think their relationship will make it past a month.” 

“are you making a bet?” 

chengcheng cracks a small smile, nudges linkai’s shoulder. “we can make it a bet. a secret one between us, or we can get the others involved. you know we love rewards for the whole group.” 

linkai smirks, nudges chengcheng back. “nah. i have nothing to really offer.” 

“you have a lot to offer,” chengcheng reassures him before he starts complaining about his knees hurting. “you wanna go grab food?” 

“what time is it?”

“2:30.” 

“we should be in chemistry right now.” 

they stare at each other and laugh, skate off of the rink and return their shoes. they hate chemistry. linkai’s phone buzzes, a message from bufan yelling at him for skipping class. chengcheng’s phone also buzzes, a message from wenjun and zhengting about missing class. they silence their phones as they climb into chengcheng’s shiny black maserati and drive off.

“i’m craving burgers,” chengcheng says.

“yeah. burgers sound good.”


	16. cruise boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, this chapter sucks but i wanted to introduce ling chao's pet otter (which doesn't have a name yet, so maybe comment what the name should be!). also! i'm going on a cruise, so i'll be mia for a bit uwu pls still love rich boys a lot while i'm gone! i should have wifi, so send things into my cc! 
> 
> also, to make up for how terrible this chap is, read the next chap ;)

“i can’t believe you,” ling chao mutters, hurriedly speed-walking through the crowds of people on deck. he walks like he was born on this boat, knew its build and how to navigate it before he ever learned to read or write, and justin perhaps wouldn’t doubt that considering it’s his family’s boat. 

“i said i’m sorry!” justin exclaims, two steps too slow behind ling chao as he tries to catch up with him. he’s the lumbering gorilla on a ship he doesn’t belong on. “i swear i only took my eyes off her for one second! she couldn’t have gotten far.” 

“she’s an otter!” ling chao yells, some of the passengers around them startled by how loud and shrill his voice is. “she knows this ship inside and out! i told you to hold her for one second and you can’t even do that!” 

justin grabs ling chao’s hand, stops him in his tracks, and justin’s surprised that ling chao even pauses for him, glossy lips all plush and pouty, brows furrowed with concern for his lost pet otter. 

“we’ll find her. i’ll find her,” justin promises, holding onto ling chao’s hand as they continue to walk across the deck into the pool area. “by the way, thanks for inviting me to your cruise ship. it’s really fun when we’re not otter chasing.” 

“no problem. it’s fun having someone to hang out with for once,” ling chao says, sharp eyes looking under tables and under chairs, tries to scan for a small, brown, furry body among the masses of sunburnt legs and tanned tummies splayed out on the pool deck. 

“does it get lonely when your parents make you go on these cruises?” justin asks, trying not to think too hard about how he’s still holding ling chao’s hand and how ling chao hasn’t made a move to pull away yet. 

“yeah,” ling chao confesses. “i usually just stay in my cabin and do homework that i miss. i’m glad we got wifi though, so now i can just watch videos all day or something.”

“you can facetime me,” justin half-jokes. “i’ll keep you company or something. that way you can procrastinate your homework here like you do on dry land.” 

ling chao lets out a small chuckle, and justin feels an accomplishment in himself. 

“master li,” one of the buffet servers calls, otter in hand. “i found your otter by the door of the cafe.” 

ling chao’s hand slips out of justin’s as he grabs for his otter, cradles her against his body and cooes, and justin can’t help but feel like perhaps this otter is ling chao’s only other friend while he’s away from the rich boys. they thank the waiter before returning to their cabin, put the otter on the bed and let her play with the blankets. 

“she’s super cute,” justin comments, sits on ling chao’s bed awkwardly even though they’ve been sleeping in the same cabin together for the past seven days.

“yeah,” ling chao murmurs, smiles as he pets her coat. 

justin stares at ling chao for a long moment before he lays down. without missing a beat, ling chao climbs over to justin’s side and curls up with him, stares up at the ceiling, and they sigh in tandem.


	17. poly boys club pt. 0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so note: this happens before zhengkunyi are a thing. at this point, only zhengkun have started dating~

“kunkun, i’m going to korea for a couple months,” zhengting had told xukun, had promised him nothing would happen, had promised him that he’d be safe. 

“it’s just for a dance academy scholarship for a few months! i’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” he leaves xukun with too many kisses and a hickey dark enough to last at least a couple of weeks, but xukun wants it to stay longer. 

it’s on the first day of class that zhengting realizes he may not be able to completely keep his promise to xukun. it’s a tall boy with tan skin and dark hair, defined muscles and a body that’s definitely well-kept. there’s no denying that he’s a ballerino of many years, sharp jaw, sharp eyes, sharp thighs, but soft lips and an even softer heart, zhengting finds out. 

“jongin,” the name rolls off zhengting’s lip a little too sharp, like the rest of the ballerino. “jongin,” he says again, tries to get the pronunciation a little bit more natural. 

“soften it. _jong...in,”_ the ballerino says, presses his fingers to zhengting’s lips to feel the place of articulation, presses his other hand to zhengting’s throat to feel for the manner of articulation. turns out, zhengting learns kinesthetically. he learns by pressing his lips to jongin’s jaw and letting jongin’s fingers slide in his mouth, lets jongin tell him where his tongue should curl and what syllables he should swallow. zhengting would’ve loved to return the favor, but jongin’s chinese diction is proper, his pronunciation crisp. zhengting doesn’t need to feel his throat or kiss his mouth to know that jongin knows his pinyin, but jongin assures zhengting that his vocabulary is lacking. 

“you dance really good,” jongin says in chinese, voice soft and deep like rich chocolate and honey. 

“so do you. you’re so sharp,” zhengting says, rests his head on jongin’s shoulder as their taxi driver says something about the traffic being especially bad today. they were supposed to go sightseeing, jongin acting as zhengting’s personal tour guide, but the weather had been gloomy and the traffic is especially dreadful. 

“let’s have dinner at the hotel instead,” jongin suggests, tells the driver to head back to the hotel instead, and zhengting doesn’t complain. as much as he wants to see seoul, it’s not every day he gets to see jongin. their camp training only lasts six weeks. 

“kunkun,” zhengting rambles on a facetime call. “he’s so hot. he’s so so so hot. he makes me look like a limp noodle when we dance. like his form is so perfect and sharp, i’m jealous.” 

xukun laughs. “you’ve always been a limp noodle, darling. you’re hot too, but i don’t doubt he’s hot. you got a photo?”

“yeah, but i look like a bottom when i dance. jongin looks like he can top you and your daddy,” he says, quickly sends a photo to xukun, who whistles impressively. 

“do you wanna fuck him?” xukun asks. 

they’ve not talked about this yet. they’ve only been dating for a few months, and zhengting knows that xukun is soft and a little bit possessive. they haven’t tested the boundaries that they’ve hypothetically discussed yet, the whole “exclusive-not-exclusive” matter that they want to try. they’re young, and they’re hot, and people are hot. they come from a club and a lifestyle that condones experimentation and fooling around. they may believe in true love, but lust is lust, and zhengting and xukun are both just a bit carnal. they’ve discussed threesomes and orgies, polyamorous relationships and flings, all purely hypothetical, but all purely “i’d be into it if you’re into it”, and maybe zhengting goes a little red when he nods at xukun through his camera lens, burying his face into his pillow right afterwards.

“okay,” xukun says. his voice wavers, but zhengting isn’t sure if it’s because xukun’s nervous or because the idea turns him on. 

“what if this doesn’t work out?” zhengting blurts out. “what if… what if this ruins us?”

“it won’t,” xukun says. “if i have a problem with it, i’ll tell you.” 

“what if i have a problem with it?”

“you’ll definitely tell me. and then we’ll know whether this open sorta relationship is right for us.” 

zhengting laughs and xukun realizes how much he’s missed him even though he’s only been gone a couple weeks. he misses being held and being kissed, misses when xukun will wake up early and press kisses down zhengting’s spine, pouts and begs for zhengting to get up and get him water because he’s too lazy. he misses their random dates and skipping school to go to the beach even though they know they have a test in biology. 

“snap me, yeah?” xukun says, smiles gently through the camera as he fights sleep off. “i wanna see everything.”

“go to bed, daddy. i’ll text you in the morning.” 

zhengting forgets to text xukun. the next week’s mornings are spent conditioning, spent doing splits against mirrors and trying not to cry when a teacher asks him to bend his waist and kick up straight. his back might break, but he won’t tell anyone, smiles and pretends like he hadn’t bruised his waist again a couple days ago while practicing.

“here, let me put some biofreeze on for you,” jongin offers when they come out of the showers, rubs the ointment into zhengting’s hips before washing his hands thoroughly.

“thank god that we have the weekend,” zhengting breathes, carefully pulls on his clothes, eyes the way jongin’s hair is still wet and dripping. 

“do you have plans?” jongin asks as he dries his hair, towel around his neck as he grabs a fresh set of clothes from his bag. 

“no. the hotel’s really boring by myself though, and i don’t think i could really drag myself out of bed to go adventuring,” he says, starts shoving his dance shoes into his bag. “do you have plans?”

“no,” jongin says. “my family are all on vacation right now, and my brother is in america, so it’s just me. i can kinda do anything i want, but i was thinking that if you aren’t busy this weekend, we could hang out.” 

hang out means something much different in zhengting’s world. tao had always told him that “hanging out” meant bumping hips and fleeting kisses, one night of having a little bit of fun and dropping his date like a bag of rocks in a river. but zhengting remembers when “hanging out” meant movies and popcorn, curling up on a friend’s couch with thick blankets, eating all the chocolate in the kitchen until he was sick. perhaps he’ll make his own standard of “hanging out”. 

jongin invites zhengting to his place, and zhengting feels like he can finally breathe when he walks into a rich boys brand mansion, all granite tops and hardwood floors, all shale on the outside patio with a large pool to relax by. 

“if you went to my school, i’d make you a rich boy in a heartbeat,” zhengting breathes, clings to jongin’s side as he shows zhengting around the house.

“make me an honorary member,” jongin says with a smile. “we pretty much have gone to the same school for three weeks now, right?”

“i’ll ask my boys,” zhengting says, throws his jacket onto jongin’s couch. “do you have a change of clothes i can wear? i forgot that we’re supposed to be just chilling and dressed up instead.” 

“it’s a rich boy habit isn’t it?” jongin chuckles, waves zhengting over to follow him into his room. “what’d you dress up for anyways?”

“my friends always told me to be prepared to be presentable at any time,” zhengting says, blatantly forgets to mention that he’d spent two hours doing his makeup and another hour fixing his hair up. 

jongin pulls open his closet and grabs a plain t-shirt and comfortable pants out and puts them on the bed. “mhm, habit, right?” jongin says. he grabs zhengting’s hips and pushes him up against his desk, traps him there. zhengting’s breath maybe leaves his lung for a quick moment as he flushes. he’s never been handled like this before. “darling, i know when someone’s just thrown on a look and when someone’s spent three hours in the bathroom this morning. why’re you all dressed up?”

zhengting purses his lips, lets a finger drag from jongin’s collarbone down his chest, pauses to play with the buttons of his dress shirt. “maybe i just wanted to look nice for you,” he says, bats his pretty eyelashes up at him. he notices jongin’s wearing cologne. he wouldn’t be wearing that on a day in just as much as zhengting wouldn’t be dressed up on a day in. “and maybe you wanted to look nice for me too.” 

“you’re teasing me,” jongin laughs, leans down to nip at zhengting’s ear, and zhengting squeals gleefully as jongin hoists him up onto the desk, presses kisses down his jaw. 

jongin’s lips nearly reach zhengting’s before zhengting exclaims, “wait, wait!” 

“what?”

“umm…” zhengting bites his lip, wrings his hands together. “c-could i… umm… send my boyfriend a picture of us?”

“your boyfriend? you have a boyfriend?” jongin says, nearly takes a step back but zhengting’s hands shoot out and grab him by the collar to keep him there.

“yes! but i-it’s not like i’m cheating on him. i mean… we have an arrangement and it’s not weird and he knows and--” 

“exclusive not exclusive,” jongin finishes.

“yes. exactly like that, and so i told him i’d send him pictures and stuff, of course with your consent, but if you don’t, then…”

“then what?”

zhengting bites the inside of his cheek, takes a deep breath as he shrugs.

“then this can’t happen. we can’t happen if you don’t consent because we can’t do anything because i promised xukun i’d send him pictures and stuff--” 

jongin grabs zhengting’s face and kisses him hard, forces his knees open and stands between his legs. “send him picture and videos, darling. whatever you want,” jongin says, pulls zhengting close. “i want him to feel like he’s here with us.”


	18. poly boys club pt. 0.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so im back from my cruise and i finished pt. 2 of the jongin/zzt thing uwu

“did he snap back yet?” jongin asks, spreading zhengting’s legs open again, ignores how much sweat and slick there is between his thighs as he pushes into zhengting’s body for the second time in an hour. 

zhengting groans and throws an arm over his eyes, lets jongin lift his leg and put it over his shoulder as he scoots down to let jongin fully settle inside of him. “h-hold on lemme ch-check,” he stutters as jongin starts thrusting into him. 

zhengting reaches for his phone on the nightstand, fumbles a bit as he tries not to knock it off onto the floor before he gets it in his grip. his fingers are so sweaty and perhaps matted with jongin’s precome that his phone doesn’t register his fingerprint id. he finally gets his phone unlocked and checks his snapchat, sees four new snaps from xukun, three pictures and a video. the three pictures are the normal nudes, a large hand around his cock, angled, head thrown back and jacking off to the material zhengting sends. 

the video is something different, however.

zhengting clicks it, panics when he forgets to turn the volume up and gets distracted by jongin shifting inside of him. when he finally gets the video to play louder, it’s xukun’s whiny voice, moaning zhengting’s name softly.

“wait, wait, lemme see,” jongin says, leans over just as the video ends.

“fuck, sorry—i already replayed it once,” zhengting mutters, throws his phone down onto the bed as he tightens his thighs around jongin’s body. 

jongin grabs zhengting’s phone before it locks, puts the camera on snapchat facing zhengting. 

“moan for me, baby,” he says.

“what?”

jongin immediately starts thrusting hard into zhengting, presses record on the snapchat as zhengting grabs the sheets above his head while jongin hammers into him. jongin barely has a conscious mind to angle the camera aesthetically, nearly forgets to get in zhengting’s sharp collarbones and high cheekbones, the way his skin glistens from their already two rounds of sex, the messiness of his hair and how jongin completely ruined the look by tugging it hard. 

“say his name, jungjung,” jongin says, thrust particularly hard into zhengting.

“k-kun… k-kunkun!” zhengting stammers, and jongin ends the video there, sends it off to xukun without a second thought. 

xukun answers back five minutes later with his own video, just a view of him jacking off, voice low and soft, and all “zhengting, what the fuck that was hot as hell send me more i’m literally dying.” 

jongin leans over and nearly folds zhengting in half, kisses him on the bow of his lips. “he wants more, doesn’t he,” he chuckles, and zhengting nods sheepishly, tightens around jongin.

“what time is it in china?” he asks.

“k-kun is in la right now,” zhengting mutters as jongin pulls out. they both sigh a bit, glad to take a small break. 

“what time is it there? like… 3am, isn’t it?” he asks. 

“yeah. he’s still awake though. he’s been going to sleep at 5 in the morning pretty much every night.” 

“facetime him.” 

“what?”

jongin grabs zhengting’s phone from his hands, scrolls through zhengting’s contacts. grabbing zhengting’s waist, jongin tugs him. “turn over,” he orders, shifts out of zhengting’s way so that zhengting can flip onto his stomach. zhengting grabs for a pillow and stuffs it under his hips as jongin hands him back his phone, dialing.

xukun picks up, flushed and disheveled. “baby, what’s up? why’re you calling?”

zhengting opens his mouth to speak, but ends up moaning loudly as jongin pushes into him, holds zhengting’s hips down as he start thrusting gently. 

“x-xukun, fuck—” zhengting sobs, tries to keep a steady grip on the camera as jongin fucks into him. 

xukun’s eyes are wide, pulls his phone closer to his face. “z-zhengting, what’s going on?”

“ask him if he’s hard,” jongin says.

zhengting asks him in shaky chinese, tries to keep himself from dropping the camera. 

“fuck, yes,” xukun breathes, his own moans shaky and breathy. “does he know chinese?”

“not much,” zhengting says, whines when jongin smacks his ass. “b-but enough, to be honest.” 

“makes us even since i don’t know much korean,” xukun laughs. “can i talk to him?” 

zhengting hands the phone back to jongin. “he wants to t-talk to you.” 

jongin takes the phone, slows his thrusts in zhengting while he talks to xukun, but zhengting takes over and pushes his hips back, fucking himself onto jongin. “hi, i’m kai,” jongin says in chinese, smiles bright and xukun bites his lip.

“i’m xukun. h-how’s my kitten?” xukun asks, shifts his position to get more comfortable. zhengting purrs at the name, and jongin can clearly see that xukun’s jerking off. 

“he’s beautiful,” jongin chuckles. “tight, hot.” 

“you’re hot,” xukun blurts out, and jongin flushes, smiles wide and pulses inside of zhengting. 

“so are you,” jongin says, and xukun whines. 

jongin hands the phone back to zhengting, lets him have control so that he can have two hands to grip onto zhengting’s waist, fuck him hard on camera for xukun. 

“how is he?” xukun asks zhengting, watches the way zhengting’s face scrunches up in pleasure.

“he’s good. he’s so good,” zhengting rambles in half chinese, half korean. 

“how many rounds?” xukun asks.

“this is our third,” jongin answers, pauses so that he can shift zhengting’s hips up further. 

“are you close?” xukun asks, to no one in particular, and both zhengting and jongin nod. “fuck, me too.” 

“what do you call him?” jongin asks zhengting, leans down and presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

zhengting buries his head in the sheets for a moment, a little embarrassed before jongin threads his fingers through zhengting’s hair, pulls him up so that he’s back in the camera’s focus before he slams his hips into zhengting. “go on, slut. address him how you usually do,” jongin orders. 

“d-daddy!” zhengting cries, and jongin smiles when xukun moans low and deep. 

“you call him daddy?” jongin chuckles, leans down and kisses zhengting’s neck.

“fuck, you two look fantastic together,” xukun groans, tips his head back as he jacks himself faster.

“jongin—“

jongin smacks zhengting’s backside, soothes it with his palm immediately after, but zhengting is still whimpering. “tell xukun what you call me,” he teases.

“what’d he say?” xukun asks.

“he wants me to t-tell you what i call him,” zhengting breathes, face flushed, moaning loudly as jongin thrusts into him suddenly.

“come on, kitten,” xukun says. “tell me what you call him.”

jongin grips zhengting’s hips and fucks him hard, wraps one hand underneath him and jacks him off messily.

“m-master!”

xukun doesn’t need to know korean to know what zhengting’s said. zhengting watches xukun drop his phone, hears xukun come hard. jongin suddenly grabs the phone from zhengting’s hand and puts it on the nightstand, angles it so that xukun can still see them. before zhengting can catch his breath, jongin is jackhammering into him again.

“jongin _jongin_ master, p-please,” zhengting rambles, scrambling for pillows and sheets to scream into. he finally comes against the sheets, still wet and soiled from their earlier rounds.

jongin fucks zhengting through his orgasm, slows his thrusts as he parts zhengting’s ass cheeks and takes his time fucking slow into zhengting’s body.

“sorry,” xukun’s voice comes from the nightstand. “i didn’t expect to come so fast.” 

“i c-came too,” zhengting stutters, moans and hisses as jongin thrusts hard into him.

“sorry,” jongin mutters as he presses kisses down zhengting’s back. “you just feel so good, don’t wanna leave yet.”

zhengting purrs softly and buried his face in a pillow, raises his hips for jongin. “go at it.”

“baby, you’re doing so well,” xukun says.

“daddy, it’s so good.” zhengting stares at xukun’s blurry face on the screen with tears in his eyes.

“and yet you always complain when i overstimulate you,” xukun pouts.

zhengting opens his mouth to come up with a rebuttal, but jongin suddenly grabs zhengting’s throat, large palm against his adam’s apple, and squeezes. zhengting’s gasp is lost in the noise of jongin’s grunt, hips finally stuttering and zhengting feeling the heat of jongin pseudo-spilling into him.

“fuck,” jongin whispers, pulls out of zhengting and ties off the condom, getting up to throw it into a trash can and going to his bathroom to get a washcloth.

“he sounds so hot when he comes,” xukun says.

zhengting looks over to see xukun still on the facetime call, curled up with his blanket, hugging a pillow, all soft and precious as he stares half-lidded into the camera. he must be tired.

“you should go to sleep,” zhengting says, sitting up on his elbows.

jongin comes back and kisses zhengting’s shoulders, wipes him down. “it’s late for him. he should sleep,” jongin says.

zhengting laughs. “that’s what i just told him.”

xukun chuckles along even though he doesn’t quite understand what they’re saying. “i really should learn korean,” xukun says, yawning right after.

“sleep,” zhengting and jongin beg.

“no, i wanna stay up and talk to you guys,” xukun whines. “i wanna kiss you.”

“don’t worry,” zhengting says. “i’ll kiss jongin for you.”

 _“liar,”_ xukun says. “you’re gonna keep all the kisses for yourself.”


	19. sephora boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lakjkds okay so i've decided that it's gonna be really non chronological after this chap so like lmao... be sure to read the notes at some point to understand the timeline because shit might get wild >>

ruibin’s organizing trays of eyeshadows when he hears a loud clamor at the door of the store. he turns to greet the crowd, as is prescribed by his job, but he’s tackled by a lanky figure before he can really turn around fully. 

“hi, ruibin!” zhengting squeals, wraps his arms around his waist and nearly drags the entire shelf down with his weight. 

“hi, hi! umm… what are you guys doing here?” he asks the beach boys and then some; ruibin can see linkai and xingjie near the back of the group. 

“we were gonna go to the beach, but we wanted to go shopping first, and we know you work here, so we dropped by!” zhengting says, brushes part of ruibin’s bangs out of his face. “i also wanted to look at new lipsticks and blushes, tell me benefit is in stock.”

“yeah, it’s in stock,” ruibin says, still half flustered.

zhengting giggles excitedly and kisses ruibin’s cheek. wenjun barely gets a kiss to ruibin’s lips before zhengting drags wenjun off to go look at the blushes. suddenly disoriented, ruibin watches chengcheng and justin trying to put as much eyeliner on quanzhe as possible; zeren is staring at face creams like he doesn’t know whether they’re edible or not; xingjie looks at home trying out different serums; and linkai’s staring at foundations but ruibin can tell linkai has no idea what they’re for.

“hey,” ruibin says softly, nudges linkai. “you looking for something?”

“uhh… no not really,” he says. “I don’t know makeup, like at all.” 

“it’s fine. you don’t look like the type.” 

“wait, no! i mean… it’s not like i’m not into it or anything. i just don’t know anything about it.” linkai stares up at ruibin, eyes bright and shining, and ruibin doesn’t know what to make of his gaze.

“do you want me to show you?” he asks.

linkai nods shyly, and ruibin smiles. perhaps linkai’s heart skips a beat too many. ruibin tells linkai to sit down at a chair while he picks out foundations, picks out powders and eyeshadows and blush and bronzer.

“i didn’t know you worked here,” linkai breathes, watches ruibin test foundation colors against linkai’s skin before applying. 

“yeah. it’s been a few months, not bad. i really love it here,” he says.

“i can tell. do you like it more than your other job?”

“yeah, kinda. it’s because this is something i actually have an interest in, you know?”

“oh, you like makeup? is this something you wanna do in the future then?”

“yeah. it’d be nice, you know? to do makeup for, like, celebrities and singers and stuff. i like makeup, and it’s really fun. plus kunkun is a model and like… all our friends are models, so it’d be cool to work fashion shows and get to do their makeup.”

“we can gather everyone at my house and have our own fashion show.” linkai was only half serious, but ruibin actually laughs and now maybe linkai feels like he’s four-fifths serious about the idea.

“do you wear makeup?” linkai asks ruibin after ruibin brushes powder on. 

“sometimes, but i don’t really have the money to buy it, so i just use foundation sometimes or concealer.” 

linkai’s fingers are already reaching for his wallet, but instead he asks, “what about wenjun? he could buy it for you.” 

“i’m not gonna ask wenjun,” ruibin chuckles, puts the foundation away and reaches for something else. linkai’s brain suddenly short circuits and wonders if ruibin just put foundation or concealer on him. 

“wenjun should be buying you these things,” linkai says. “i mean… he’s your b-boyfriend, right?”

ruibin pauses, stares at linkai for a long moment. “even if he’s my boyfriend, he’s not obligated to buy me anything, and i don’t want him to. i wanna earn it, i guess.”

“does he buy you anything?” linkai asks.

“umm… he bought me flowers once, i guess. he’s not very materialistic though.”

linkai’s huffs, annoyed at the idea that wenjun isn’t giving ruibin all the gifts and luxuries he can afford; maybe if only because that’s what linkai would do. he’d buy ruibin all the makeup he wants, give him gold bracelets, buy him new outfits for every day of the week. ruibin might not be into some of these things, but he knows there are things ruibin needs too. like his phone. he still uses a cracked blueberry, and linkai’s never seen anything sadder. 

“what’re your favorite products?” linkai asks, and ruibin’s eyes light up, immediately starts gesturing and talking about highlighters and bronzers and blushes that he loves, but linkai barely knows how to spell any of these brand names.

he lets ruibin ramble while he pats linkai’s face with product, stares at ruibin as he keeps talking and exclaiming, the way he looks so at ease and happy talking about something he loves, not like at zara where he’d memorized all the clothes only because he had to. ruibin genuinely enjoys makeup. 

“wenjun modeled for a makeup brand once,” ruibin slides in suddenly.

“yeah, i remember,” linkai says. “he looked really pretty.”

“he’s really nice, by the way,” ruibin whispers. “i promise, he treats me right. i don’t need him buying me stuff all the time to show that he likes me.” 

“what do you like in a boyfriend then?” linkai asks, presses forward a little bit.

“just someone who can watch movies with me and make me laugh.” 

“does he make you laugh?”

ruibin pauses, stares at wenjun from across the store before shrugging. “he does. i’m happy with him.” 

linkai feels a pit in his stomach and despite all the makeup on him, he doesn’t feel pretty. “hey, can you.. uhh… bring me everything you mentioned earlier?” linkai asks. “like all the stuff you said you liked.” 

“oh! you’re gonna buy?” ruibin asks, bouncy and delighted. 

“yeah. do me a favor… uhh… bufan might make fun of me too much for this. can you keep all the stuff at your house?”

“really? i mean, are you sure? how’re you gonna use any of—”

“keep it for me. you can use it and stuff. it’s like… my gift to you.” 

ruibin pauses for a long moment, grabs a wipe and starts to clean his hands. “are you… buying me makeup?”

linkai bites the inside of his cheek and nods. “yeah. i’ll buy you this whole store if you want.”

“no, no! don’t do that! but you also, like… don’t have to buy me anything at all. it’s fine—”

“no, i want to. you work hard, and you deserve it. it’s my early christmas gift to you, okay? just… just pick anything you want, and umm—” linkai pulls out his wallet, plucks a card from it and hands it to ruibin. “just put everything on this card. i’ll pay for it. really.” 

“l-linkai—”

“please. i wanna buy you something.” 

and linkai uses those puppy eyes, and maybe something in ruibin’s heart stirs because he grips the card tightly and his bottom lip quivers. 

“you’re too sweet,” he breathes, hugs linkai tight, and linkai hugs him back, watches wenjun from across the store staring at them, watches how wenjun turns away to whisper into zhengting’s ear, hand on zhengting’s hip. 

when they walk out of the store, xingjie nudges linkai and says, “you’re not slick, but it was cute.”


	20. gossip boys club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm continuing rich boys!

it’s 11pm, party barely started, and ziyi is already half drunk and pushing xukun up against the wall. it’s zhangjing’s birthday, and xukun doesn’t want to make a scene.

“fuck you, ziyi,” xukun growls, pushing at ziyi’s shoulders.

“baby, don’t be like that,” ziyi sings, leaning forward to press a kiss to xukun’s neck, to which xukun’s heart skips a hard beat, cries out at the affection, the attention, but they’re actions too little, too late.

xukun groans as he pushes ziyi away again. “d-don’t call me that! stop... doing this. i can’t do this with you,” he hisses.

xukun tries to walk away from ziyi, but he grabs xukun by the wrist and traps him against the wall again. ziyi is quiet for a long moment, stares inside the house to make sure zhengting is well distracted, is still dancing with wenjun, is still talking with zhangjing.

“i know you miss me, kunkun. yanchen... you think he’s better than me?” ziyi asks.

“zhengting and i have already talked about it. we like him, and he’s loyal,” xukun says, folding his arms over his chest.

“but he’s not me. come on, baby. i miss you. i miss you so much, please,” ziyi whines, leans down and peppers kisses all over xukun’s face, and there are reflexes xukun’s body still hasn’t thrown away yet, melting into ziyi’s embrace. it takes everything he has to push ziyi away.

“don’t touch me. don’t fucking talk to me,” xukun says, voice quivering. “you broke my heart too many times. i’m not letting you do it again.”

“i went on a date with jeffrey, you know,” ziyi mutters, eyes dark, thin lips pressed tight against each other.

“that’s nice, you should,” xukun mutters. “you should get back together with him.”

“doesn’t it make you jealous? me, taking him out for lunch and a date, kissing him, driving him home after.”

xukun knows what ziyi is trying to do, rolls his eyes and pushes ziyi away again when ziyi gets too close.

“sounds nice.”

“not jealous of me kissing him? fucking him on the hood of my car? took him home and watched a movie too.”

“sounds cute.” xukun refuses to look at ziyi, and ziyi grabs xukun by the chin, gentle but purposeful.

“baby... don’t you remember us doing all that? and zhengting... and the three of us always had so much fun.”

xukun could really cry right here, right now. he pushes ziyi away a final time, tears in his eyes.

“i told you to stop it! i’m done with this, i’m done with you! yes, i loved you. i loved you so much, but it’s fucking over, okay? this is over—zhengting and i have yanchen, and we’re happy with him. get. over. it.”

ziyi grabs xukun by the collar of his shirt, growls in his ear, “you don’t know shit about yanchen, baby. don’t come crying to me when he hurts you.”

xukun pushes ziyi away, holds himself close. “fuck off. he’d never hurt me.”

the moment xukun steps back into the house, yanchen is by xukun’s side, grabbing his wrist, and frankly, xukun is sick of it tonight. he pulls his wrist away harshly, but yanchen doesn’t make to grab at him again, which gives xukun a breath.

“what did ziyi want? you looked uncomfortable,” yanchen says, eyes full of concern.

xukun’s bottom lip trembles before he hugs yanchen around his middle and guides them away from the door. “nothing,” he says. “don’t worry about it. it’s just nonsense, he’s drunk.”

yanchen’s grip on xukun’s waist is tight, protective, and yanchen presses a gentle kiss to xukun’s temple. “tell me if he bothers you again, baby boy,” yanchen says. “i’ll kick his fucking ass.”

“yeah—go have fun with linkai. i wanna hang with ruibin,” xukun mutters, pushes yanchen toward the noise that is linkai half singing, half screaming into the karaoke mic.

xukun finds ruibin picking at the snack bowls, a plethora of choices considering its zhangjing’s party.

“hey, look at this cake,” ruibin says as xukun walks over. “it’s really cute. his name looks really good written like this—“

“can we go somewhere quiet?” xukun asks—begs—as he grips ruibin’s wrist tightly.

ruibin doesn’t need an explanation or anything, just nods and grabs xukun’s hand, leads him down the hallway to find an empty bedroom. the moment they’re inside, xukun plops down on the bed.

“i hate ziyi,” he mutters.

“no you don’t,” ruibin says.

xukun purses his lips and flops down on his back.

“what happened?”

“ziyi happened. ziyi telling me that he misses me and zhengting and that he went on a date with jeffrey and that he wants me and zhengting back.”

“okay, so what’s new?”

“i don’t know. is it crazy to say i might still have feelings for him too?”

ruibin sits on the bed next to xukun. “you’re giving your heart out to too many people.”

“okay, clarification: i still like him as a friend. like... kind of a best friend that I can confide him, and i love him like a best friend.”

“wow, your actual best friend is hurt.” ruibin makes a faux hurt look, and xukun kicks him gently in the side.

“shut up. you’re my soulmate—but I mean... ziyi and i still went through a lot. we were super close while we dated, so like... i guess I still like being around him and stuff.”

“that’s fine. it’s not fine that he keeps trying to break up your relationship.”

“ugh, I know! I just wish like... he could see I’m happy with zhengting and yanchen. he said weird stuff about yanchen too.”

“what weird stuff?”

xukun sits up to explain, but linong walks into the room at that point, closing the door behind him gently.

“did you talk to ziyi?” linong asks, voice pitching in that way when he’s just witnessed something either horrifying or confusing.

“why?” xukun says.

“he’s drinking a beer in the pool and zhangjing is downstairs yelling at him. he won’t get out of the pool.”

ruibin can’t help but snicker at the thought, thinks just the image of zhangjing screaming at ziyi to get out of the pool while ziyi floats in the middle, out of reach.

“did he bring a bathing suit?” ruibin asks, as if that’s the most important detail of the story.

“no, he literally just jumped it,” linong says, sitting on the bed with xukun—and now ruibin is laughing out loud. maybe that drink he shared with linkai was stronger than he thought.

xukun leans back and lays his head in linong’s lap. “so what’re you doing here?” he asks.

“ziyi said something about you, so i came to find you to check if you were okay. he said he’s sorry.” linong drags his fingers through xukun’s hair, grimaces when he realizes there’s product in his hair.

“apology not accepted. i’m sick and tired of him always shit talking my boyfriends.”

“then don’t take it anymore,” linong says.

“i’m not. just... ugh—its a mess. oh! by the way, are you guys busy in a month? specifically linong because this will make things a lot easier if you are.”

“wow, i’m personally offended,” ruibin says, laying on his stomach next to xukun as he playfully smacks his chest, and xukun just takes his hand and kisses his palm.

“i’m busy, i think,” linong says, sitting back more comfortably. “why?”

“yanchen invited some people to go to his beach house in jeju, so I wanted to invite you guys—but mostly linong because it’d be easier for travel because you own... airplanes.”

“wow. unbelievable. my friendship is worth my plane transportation,” linong complains playfully.

“it’s fine! we’ll just have to use some other airline,” xukun says with a pout.

linong smacks xukun’s chest the same way ruibin does, and xukun grabs his hand and kisses it.

“i’ll book you guys tickets for our airline and get first class,” linong says, smiling down at xukun.

“thanks—binbin, are you gonna come with us? wenjun is coming,” xukun asks.

“oh... wenjun didn't tell me about it."

"how're you and wenjun?" linong asks.

ruibin shrugs and scoots closer to xukun. "it's fine, i think. we don't talk as much anymore, but he's busy with college applications too. he's going for medical school and stuff, so i don't want to get in the way of that."

"you couldn't get in the way of anything if you tried, twig," xukun laughs. 

ruibin scrunches his nose and kicks at xukun's thigh. "I have an audition for a college next month anyways, so I can't go with you guys.”

“are you going to study theatre?” linong asks, shifting his position so that xukun can lay his head on his thigh.

“theatre and visual arts! so that I can do makeup.”

“do you need a degree to do makeup?” xukun asks.

“no, but like... I wanna do theatre too, so I guess I’ll start there.”

“one day he’s gonna be a famous actor and forget all about us,” linong laughs.

xukun chuckles as he watches ruibin reach other and push linong’s arm gently to reprimand him. xukun sighs, pulls linong to lay down with ruibin and him as he holds their hands.

“we graduate in a year,” he breathes, suddenly realizing that something new is about to change the dynamic.

“well you guys are, i’m not,” linong says.

“don’t worry. it’s a while away,” ruibin says. “let’s just enjoy our time.”

_as rich boys._


	21. exes club pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is basically just some of the past relationships zzt and cxk had, mostly about ziyi and xingjie--but trust me, this is just the tip of the iceberg for some of the past relationships ;)))
> 
> also come hang out in my curious cat (see end of chap)! literally if you ask any question about rich boys i'll tell you everything, all the hot goss lmao

wenjun knows it’s a secret because yanchen approached him himself. wenjun knows it’s serious because yanchen had asked him in person. wenjun knows yanchen is worried because he asks wenjun not to tell anyone, especially not zhengting and xukun. 

“my father’s been arrested,” yanchen tells wenjun in his car on the drive to lunch (“my treat,” yanchen had insisted since he was the one asking for a favor.). 

wenjun stares at yanchen, watches the way yanchen’s eyes don’t waver from the road, and he knows it’s not because yanchen’s a diligent driver. he’s scared, he’s worried. 

“can i ask for what?” wenjun asks, turns to face the road again.

“drugs.” 

part of wenjun expected that; another part expected prostitution or something of that sort. he’s not surprised, either way. 

“don’t tell zhengting,” yanchen adds.

“i won’t,” wenjun says. “do you need my help then?”

“yes,” yanchen breathes.

“do you even like your father? zhengting’s told me some of the things you told him, and—”

“i know he’s awful, and i know that he’s not the best, but this is more for our company and so that i don’t have to work as hard.”

wenjun nods. yanchen’s right. a ceo drug addict is definitely a headline that would turn people off; in addition, he supposes that if yanchen has to take over the company, that means he goes straight into business without really getting to spend time with zhengting and xukun. 

“what’s your mother’s stance?” wenjun asks.

“she doesn’t care,” he says. “she’ll say whatever to keep him out of jail only because she doesn’t want the responsibility, but she’s never cared about what he does.” 

wenjun purses his lips. “we have a lot of work to do then,” he mutters, calling up his lawyer uncle.

* * *

halfway through lunch wenjun spots jeffrey in the restaurant, which wouldn’t have caught his attention if not for ziyi sitting across from jeffrey.

“yanchen,” wenjun whispers, points to the couple.

“oh my god,” yanchen breathes. “are they on a date?”

“it looks like a date.”

“but is it a date, or is it ziyi being up to no good?”

ziyi holds jeffrey’s hand, and the two of them giggle over something unheard.

“i think it’s a date,” wenjun concludes. 

“do you think he’s moved on from xukun?” yanchen asks, waving a waiter over for the bill. 

wenjun stares at jeffrey for a long moment before he shrugs. “if he hasn’t, i think he’s at least trying,” he says. 

“what even happened between them?” yanchen asks, finishing up his chicken.

“did zhengting and xukun not tell you?” wenjun asks, putting his knife and fork down, no longer hungry.

“i was gonna ask, but i also didn’t want to bother them. they didn’t look like they wanted to talk about them.” 

“they usually don’t. i mean, i don’t know all of the details, but there’s a few things that happened,” wenjun says. “ziyi was only in that relationship because of xukun, you know. xukun was the one who brought him in. zhengting wasn’t romantically attracted to ziyi at the time when they started dating, but he said yes because he figured ziyi was handsome, i guess. anyways, they ended up all liking each other at some point, but it was obvious that ziyi prioritized xukun, which isn’t something zhengting is fond of, you know.”

yanchen nods absently, notices the waiter tries to hand wenjun the bill, and yanchen is snatching it away before wenjun can even turn his head. 

“anyways—” wenjun continues, “ziyi and zhengting used to fight a lot, and xukun absolutely hated it because it’s a bit of a trigger for him, and then ziyi used to take xukun on secret dates with zhengting. like, that was one of their arguments, i remember.”

“fuck—that’s not cool. you can’t do that in a poly.”

“obviously, and zhengting found out. and then there were the drugs. zhengting and xukun don’t really like drinking or drugs, but ziyi had xukun try weed once, and zhengting was livid. xukun’s usually careful with substances because he’s afraid of substance abuse and addiction, but i guess ziyi has a way to convince him to do almost anything. it was really dangerous for a while. xukun was literally led by ziyi, and zhengting didn’t like it, and the rest of us didn’t really know the story at the time, so we all just stayed quiet.” 

“so how did jeffrey come into the picture?”

“well… jeffrey, ziyi, and linong were gym buddies, and so i guess jeffrey and ziyi got close like that. i heard that the first time they did it was in the gym shower after nongnong had left. i heard that they were sleeping together for like 3 weeks before zhengting finally found out.”

“how’d they find out?”

“they literally walked in on them.”

“what?”

“yeah, zhengting and xukun came over to ziyi’s house to surprise him or something, and they found ziyi in bed with jeffrey.”

“wow, that’s pretty classic.”

“zhengting cried a lot. ziyi really made him fall for him somehow. like… ziyi is that publicly romantic type, and zhengting really loves that shit, so ziyi used to come to school with flowers for him and always take him to lunch and stuff, but it was always really materialistic. he was always deeper with xukun, and zhengting always kind of resented that. zhengting’s not stupid, he’s just easy to please.” 

“yeah… god, i'm gonna punch ziyi when i see him. that must’ve been awful. how long did they date?”

“like… a couple years, actually. they only broke up for four months before you got here.”

yanchen glares at ziyi and jeffrey’s table, and wenjun stares at yanchen. he can’t read him, doesn’t know what he’s thinking. there’s a portion of yanchen’s life that the rich boys don’t know about yet, a portion that they all haven’t heard yanchen speak about, but wenjun can tell that yanchen knows something. 

“thanks for lunch, by the way.”

* * *

yanchen had dropped wenjun off at the school, and wenjun hadn’t expected anyone to be around, so when he heard chengcheng’s voice coming from behind the bleachers, he was more than surprised.

“no, i really like spending time with you,” chengcheng says.

“really? all i do is complain and be loud,” linkai says.

“i’m loud too.”

“we’re the loud boys, huh?”

they laugh, and wenjun wonders whether he should walk away now or not. he’s about to turn on his heels when he hears linkai say, “do you think ruibin and wenjun will break up?”

there’s a static pause, wenjun’s curious ear tuned in. 

“i don’t know,” chengcheng says, voice wavering. it’s odd that his voice wavers because wenjun doesn’t know if that means chengcheng is nervous about wenjun and ruibin’s relationship or perhaps something else. 

“i didn’t think they’d make it past a month,” linkai says.

“me neither,” chengcheng says. “zhengting thinks wenjun’s only dating ruibin for show.”

“what do you mean?” 

“because ruibin is xukun’s best friend—and wenjun like… used to have a thing for zhengting.”

“whoa! wait— _what?”_

chengcheng snorts. “you didn’t know? everyone knew! wenjun’s had a crush on zhengting since they were like ten!”

 _had,_ wenjun wants to emphasize pointedly, scowling. yeah, maybe at one point he had liked zhengting, and yeah, maybe that crush had gone on longer than crushes usually do—but he’s over it. he’s truly over it, and zhengting—as much as wenjun loves him like a brother—zhengting always makes everything about him, always thinks he’s the center of the world. 

“i knew zhengting had a thing with xingjie, but i didn’t know about wenjun,” linkai says.

“wait, tell me about xingjie. i’ve heard a little bit about it, but zhengting kinda keeps it secret. like i heard they were actually dating and xingjie bought him some jewelry, but they broke up because xingjie wouldn’t put out or something,” chengcheng says.

“what? fuck no—okay, so xingjie told me that he and zhengting were a thing on the downlow, but they never became official because zhengting didn’t want to. and this was during the first couple years of school or something, and xingjie bought zhengting a bracelet, which zhengting still wears. anyways, zhengting broke it off with xingjie randomly one day and then suddenly the next week zhengting was dating xukun.”

“wow. sus. and if this was during that year, then zhengting and xukun had been sleeping with each other for a while.” 

“oh man. xingjie found out about that and was really hurt. i remember he didn’t talk to zhengting for a good month or two.” 

“to be fair, he doesn’t really talk to any of us.”

“he does! just in his own way. he talks a lot with me and yankai.” 

there’s a small pause in the conversation, so wenjun figures that linkai and chengcheng are finished talking. he turns to leave but stops when he hears chengcheng start talking again.

“hey,” chengcheng says. “even if ruibin and wenjun don’t break up, you have me, you know.”

“yeah. us forever.” 

something in wenjun’s heart hurts a little bit, feels like he’s intruded on such an intimate moment—but that’s what always ends up happening. he silently butts in on moments he’s not invited to.


	22. cuffed boys club

news travels fast in the rich boys club. it starts a couple hours before lunch with zeren, who calls wenjun first because he figures that if anyone knows how to handle this kind of situation, it’d be him. in the next thirty minutes, justin and chengcheng are chattering frantically in their biology class about the matter and end up skipping the rest of their class to tell xingjie. linkai and ruibin are studying together in the library when xingjie calls linkai, which has never happened in the five years he’s known him, so he picks up immediately to hear the news and immediately relays it to ruibin, who gawks at linkai for a long moment before linkai thinks of texting yanchen and ruibin runs to find xukun. 

yanchen supposes that he and xukun both hear about the news around the same time, both feel their hearts drop when the lunch bell rings, both immediately hop into yanchen’s sleek car and floor it to the hospital. 

“fourth floor, room 402,” wenjun tells them as soon as they drive up, haphazard parking and panicking. 

a nurse stands outside of the room with a clipboard. 

“we’re here to see zhengting,” xukun says, out of breath, cheeks flushed. the nurse might’ve swooned if he didn’t have a look in his eyes thinking zhengting died on an operating table.

“i need your ids,” she says, holds her clipboard close to her chest.

“what? why?” yanchen says despite already taking out his wallet to get his id. 

“the patient’s mother set up a watch list, and only certain people are allowed in.” 

xukun freezes the moment he hands over his id, knows exactly what that means, and it’s confirmed when the nurse tells xukun that he’s not allowed to see zhengting. 

“he’s with me,” yanchen says. “he can come in with me. we’re zhengting’s boyfriends.” 

“you or him?” the nurse asks, confused.

“both of us,” xukun says. “all three of us are dating.” 

“he’s not allowed in,” the nurse says pointedly, chewing at her lip. this isn’t comfortable for any of them. 

zhengting’s mother comes out of the room at that moment, her face pursed and brows knit. she doesn’t spare xukun a glance.

“yanchen, you came,” she says with a polite smile, and yanchen doesn’t even give her the grace of a bow.

“let xukun see zhengting,” yanchen bites, demands.

“i’m not letting him anywhere near my son,” she snaps, her words like the bite of a dragon. “he’s the reason zhengting is like this. he’s the reason my son wants to be a dancer when he had a safe career as a model, but mr. cai had to go and spoil his head with ideas of performing and artistry. there’s no gratitude in emotions.”

perhaps there’s a part of her that really does love and protect zhengting—albeit, in a very overprotective and unappreciative way. she just wanted a stable job for zhengting, wanted to flaunt a talent he already had rather than build a whole new one—not to mention that his body took the toll of his work in a way where modeling wouldn’t require any sort of specialties. yanchen gets it, but right now, he just wants to see zhengting _with xukun._ yanchen opens his mouth to make the loudest rebuttal, but xukun grabs his hand.

“just go in,” he whispers to yanchen. 

“what?”

“just go in—i’ll be fine. i’ll see him later,” he says, gives yanchen a wink. they have their ways around security.

yanchen cups xukun’s face in his hands and gives him a full kiss, lingers just a minute longer before he pushes past the nurse and zhengting’s mother. zhengting’s sitting up in his bed, obviously in pain from the way he yelps from leaning forward when he sees yanchen. 

“what’s going on?” he asks, brows furrowed, lips pouting. they haven’t seen each other in seven hours, but yanchen misses that pout like he hasn’t seen zhengting in a year. he immediately kisses zhengting and pats his messy hair flat. 

“your mom won’t let xukun in to see you,” yanchen says.

“she wha—MA! YOU CAN’T KEEP XUKUN OUT OF MY ROOM!” zhengting screams, yanchen’s eardrums nearly shattering at how shrill he is. zhengting throws the blanket off of himself to try and get out of bed, but yanchen grabs his wrists to stop him. 

“zhengting! sugar! calm down—god, you’re loud,” yanchen mutters, wrestling zhengting back into bed.

“you would know,” zhengting jokes, and yanchen kisses his forehead. 

“what happened? why are you here?” he asks. 

“it’s nothing. i was at dance practice and my waist started hurting,” zhengting says with a shrug, as if he wasn’t in the hospital, as if justin and chengcheng hadn’t been going around the entire school telling everyone zhengting was minutes away from death (then again… it’s not like they should’ve believed anything justin and chengcheng say). 

“are you sure you’re okay?” yanchen asks, holds zhengting’s hand and kisses his knuckles. 

“i’m fine. it’s just an old injury acting up. the doctor is filling out the release forms right now. they even said i’m good for flying, so we’ll still be going to jeju right?”

yanchen rolls his eyes. “is that really your main concern?”

“no, my main concern is GETTING XUKUN MY BELOVED BOYFRIEND IN MY ROOM!” 

yanchen covers his ears but smiles at zhengting’s persistence.

* * *

zhengting doesn’t get discharged until a few hours later, and the hospital staff wouldn’t let xukun and yanchen loiter—especially since xukun and zhengting’s mother had had a screaming argument just before wenjun asked xukun and yanchen out to eat to keep the disturbances to a minimum. 

it’s midnight and zhengting giggles when he sees his boyfriends climbing through his balcony window.

“wow, this is romantic,” he laughs as xukun peppers his face with kisses and yanchen sets some leftovers from dinner on zhengting’s desk. 

“i missed you, baby,” xukun murmurs against zhengting’s lips, eyes fluttering closed as their fingertips touch bare skin, gentle, pure, intimate. 

“missed you both,” zhengting whispers. 

yanchen takes a seat beside zhengting and kisses at his neck, a hand resting on xukun’s thigh as they just enjoy each others’ presences. 

“we should give it to him now,” zhengting mutters against xukun’s shoulder.

“should we?” he says, eyes flickering over to yanchen, who perks up but stays silent. xukun moves off the bed and yanchen and zhengting readjust so that zhengting is leaning against yanchen. 

“where’d you put it, baby?” xukun asks as he looks through zhengting’s desk. 

“top drawer.” 

xukun pulls open the drawer and takes out a small box, brings it over to the bed and sits in front of yanchen.

“what’s this?” yanchen asks, voice barely a whisper, heart beating too fast. it feels like a proposal even though that’s preposterous, but god… yanchen wouldn’t mind marrying both of them here and now. 

“when ziyi, xukun, and me started dating, we all got matching rings,” zhengting says, hooking his chin over yanchen’s shoulder as yanchen plays with the bow on the box. “xukun and i still have ours, but we wanted to give you one.”

yanchen feels his heart swell, his face heating up, blushing. part of him is overwhelmed and another part is underwhelmed. he grabs xukun by the hem of his shirt and drags him close, kisses him hard before he turns to zhengting and kisses him equally as hard.

“i’m gonna cry, i hate you guys.”


	23. trouble boys club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which zhengting just causes trouble

“they’re placing a new dress code on the school,” wenjun announces at lunch, and it’s always at lunch because it seems like that’s the only time they all hang out together anyways. 

“like hell they are,” linkai mutters, but the rest of the table scoffs. everyone’s already noticed how his hair is no longer in braids, most likely in compliance with the new school rule.

“they’re banning hair dyes and earrings,” zeren adds, leaning back in his hair, playing with his phone.

“bullshit,” zhengting snaps, lips pouting, brows furrowed, his arms over his chest. xukun is already reaching out to wrap a hand around zhengting’s shoulder, yanchen’s hand on zhengting’s thigh. 

“don’t,” wenjun breathes, leaning forward in his seat, glaring at zhengting. “quanzhe still has two more weeks of tutoring, and you’ve gone the entire semester without majorly breaking the school code. if you deliberately break the dress code, i have to write you up. they won’t let it slide.”

zhengting purses his lips, taps wenjun on the nose before standing up, dragging both yanchen and xukun to stand with him, tugging them by the hem of their shirts.

“don’t--” wenjun pleads again, but zhengting is already turning away. “take me shopping, daddies,” he says clearly, pulling them both toward yanchen’s car.

“he has an exam in two hours,” wenjun mutters to ruibin, resting his head against ruibin’s shoulder. linkai stares at the couple; ruibin stares back at linkai a little too long.

* * *

“stop, stop--you’ll get the skirt dirty!” zhengting hisses, his arms hooking around yanchen’s shoulders as xukun pushes the skirt zhengting has on up his hips. 

“you should’ve chosen a larger dressing room,” xukun mutters, kissing at zhengting’s shoulder. he manages to slip his cock into zhengting, snuggled tight against yanchen’s.

“fuck, fuck--tight,” yanchen groans, one hand gripping xukun’s shoulder and one hand holding zhengting open for them, supporting his weight. “r-remind me, i’m never letting you guys talk me into doing this in the store again.”

zhengting moans like a goddamn whore before xukun feeds his fingers into his mouth, presses his digits down against his tongue to keep him quiet. “we… we’re gonna get banned,” xukun laughs, thrusting into zhengting, encouraging yanchen to do the same. 

there are two pairs of hands on zhengting’s hips, two cocks filling him up, three fingers in his mouth to keep him quiet, and one pair of feet wandering outside of the dressing room, a retail worker clearly aware of what’s going on behind the curtain of the dressing room. perhaps zhengting is only acting out because he hates being told what to do, hates that the school is restricting his freedom--much like a certain parent who wants to restrict and criticize his choices in life. yanchen and xukun don’t blame zhengting for acting out, but they blame him for getting come on the very skirt that he had berated them for dirtying. 

but not a single cent comes out of zhengting’s pocket when they arrive at the cash register, zhengting being piggybacked by xukun as yanchen sheepishly puts the dirtied skirt on the table. they buy at least a thousand dollars worth of clothing, new outfits for zhengting to bring to their trip to jeju later in the month. the women at the register mutter something about having to sterilize the dressing room.

zhengting returns to the school two hours later to take his exam, except his hair has changed from his usual brown to platinum blond. 

“zhengting,” wenjun hisses, eyes wide and very annoyed. 

“let me take my exam in peace,” zhengting mutters, flicking his wrist out at wenjun, ready to take an exam that he only just began to study while in the car with yanchen driving, giving him practice questions while xukun jacked zhengting off in the backseat. 

zhengting finishes his exam in forty minutes, throws his paper carelessly onto the teacher’s desk before walking out.

* * *

“i don’t know why he’s antagonizing me. i’m just trying to do my job,” wenjun complains to ruibin. it’s all wenjun’s been able to talk about all day--zhengting this, zhengting that. granted, ruibin loves zhengting too, but he’s kind of sick of hearing about his escapades and the way that wenjun cares just a little bit too much about him.

“you’re not listening,” wenjun says when ruibin nods off, starts wondering what to eat for dinner, if he even has enough rice at home or if he needs to cook more. 

“sorry… i’m distracted,” he mutters, staring at his phone, suddenly realizing that it’s been a while since linkai’s messaged him. “maybe just… let zhengting do whatever he wants. he’s not gonna listen to you, and he already got sent to the dean’s office for the hair anyways.”

“but i don’t want him to get in trouble,” wenjun mutters, stares at ruibin who stares at his phone. neither of them say anything, and wenjun remembers how chengcheng and linkai were talking about him and ruibin a couple weeks ago randomly. “sorry,” he suddenly says. “i shouldn’t be so concerned with zhengting.”

“it’s fine,” ruibin says, looking up from his phone and patting wenjun on the head. “he’s your friend, and you’re concerned. it’s normal.” 

wenjun clicks his tongue and purses his lips, sighing. “watch tomorrow he’ll come to school with dangle earrings and makeup.”

* * *

sans the earrings, zhengting shows up with pink eyeshadow and winged eyeliner, lips tinted with a darker shade of red than usual; however, his hair is no longer platinum blond, but instead a deep bluish-grey.

“i thought you got sent to the dean’s office yesterday,” zeren says as zhengting sits with him.

“he did,” xukun says. “the dean told him to get rid of the hair.”

“so i did,” zhengting retorts.

“and then he woke us up at 5am so he could do that,” yanchen says, pointing to his eye makeup.

“which looks amazing,” zhengting adds. “please, take a photo. i worked really hard on it.” 

“he won’t let us kiss him because he doesn’t want us to ruin it,” yanchen groans, urging zhengting to stand up for a second so he can sit down before zhengting plops himself down into yanchen’s lap.

“you’re really hellbent on fucking with the school system, huh,” zeren mutters, unable to take his eyes off of zhengting’s makeup. “wenjun’s gonna yell.”

“well, wenjun doesn’t control me,” zhengting snorts. 

justin and ling chao suddenly come running into the room, out of breath. “you’ll never guess what just happened,” justin says.

“ziyang--” ling chao starts, but ends up coughing as he tries to catch his breath.

“--suspended,” justin supplies.

“what?” everyone interjects. 

“for what?” zeren asks.

“showing up late,” justin says.

“they suspended him for that? that’s such a minor offense,” xukun says. 

ling chao shakes his head, smiling. “for showing up late in his bathrobe,” he giggles. “he said he went to get coffee and forgot to put on his clothes before coming to school, and the dean literally caught him in the parking lot.” 

zeren nearly falls out of his chair laughing, and justin is on the floor just remembering the incident. xukun and yanchen both crack a smile, and zhengting gives an amused smirk, but he’s a bit miffed. he’d have to work harder to get the school to reprimand him.

* * *

“i don’t get why you’re trying so hard to get in trouble with the school,” xukun mutters, kissing zhengting’s chest as he unbuttons his shirt, hands sliding around his waist to pull him close. really xukun should be the one stripping down so he can change into clothes that aren’t sweaty from them having just participated in their physical education courses, but zhengting didn’t seem to mind. 

“it’s not that i want to be in trouble, but i want to cause trouble,” he says with a pout, runs his hands through xukun’s soft hair, skin prickling at the kisses.

yanchen walks over and presses a kiss to zhengting’s shoulder from behind. “i liked it better when you were our good boy,” he purrs into his ear, smiling, and zhengting can’t help but smile too. 

“don’t sweet talk me like that,” he giggles, tilting his head back and kissing yanchen’s chin.

“but you only obey us when we’re sweet to you,” xukun adds, nipping at zhengting’s neck, and zhengting giggles at the ticklish feeling.

“hm.. maybe if you controlled me better, i wouldn’t be such a brat,” he retorts, pressing his ass back against yanchen, his hands reaching for xukun’s belt. 

xukun and yanchen both growl, both glance at each other before glaring down at zhengting. “we’re in the school lockers, sweetheart,” xukun whispers, hands tightening on zhengting’s waist.

“and when has that ever stopped us?” zhengting giggles, unbuckling xukun’s belt and letting his pants fall to the ground. “right, prince?”

yanchengroans before his eyes wander down with zhengting’s, both humming in approval before yanchen is pushing zhengting’s body to the floor. “come on, sugar,” he says, patting zhengting’s head. “be a good boy for daddy.” 

xukun tilts his head back, groans as zhengting pulls him loose out of his shorts and puts his mouth on him, starts of formidably strong. he swallows deep and faster, xukun’s hands in zhengting’s hair while yanchen leans forward and captures him in a kiss to keep him quiet. one of xukun’s hands untangles from zhengting’s hair to tug at yanchen’s belt, slip his fingers down his pants and wrap around him. yanchen hisses into xukun’s mouth and lets him rub his thumb over the head, lets him tighten his grip every time zhengting’s throat brushes with the head of xukun’s cock. 

“zhengting--fuck, i’m gonna cum,” xukun whispers, tugging at zhengting’s hair, who sucks harder around xukun’s length. 

yanchen gives a breathy laugh, forehead pressed to xukun’s shoulder. “same--yeah,” he mutters, wrapping his own hand around xukun’s hand to help him jack him off. 

xukun’s legs start to tremble as his climax approaches, but his legs give out when the door to the lockers suddenly open. the dean walks in, faced with the scene of the three of them: dicks out and sweaty. zhengting, dazed, stares at the dean for a long moment before smiling shyly. he’s sure that they’re definitely getting in trouble for this.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments always appreciated!! :))
> 
> find me: [twt](https://twitter.com/nongtanq) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/richboys)
> 
>  
> 
> [twt: rich boys club txts](https://twitter.com/daddyanchen/status/1009186220616966145)  
> [spotify: rich boys playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/lnzeie46zsbylz4g9us0h9gg9/playlist/6H8jo0x3d40jo5J7OI3oyF?si=GiUCd1zJSTeZJXZ4dDr5Jg)


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